Bastard Effect
by Ridley the Violator
Summary: Bastard Shepard is the only kind of person who CAN protect the galaxy. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully not. No. No, definitely not. Seriously, screw this guy. If you love to hate Mass Effect then you'll love to hate this! NOW CONCLUDING WITH THE LENGTHY CITADEL DLC ARC
1. The Dinner Date

"We can rebuild him," said the Illusive Man. "We have the technology. We can make him whiter. Caucasianer. Genericer."

"Can we fix the other problem?"

"The penis size? No. No, it has to all be the same. All of it."

"I didn't mean the penis, I meant the personality issues. They say if the Collectors hadn't destroyed the ship, Shepard would have had his throat cut. There were half a dozen conspiracies to murder him already in motion. Besides, being an asshole can't really be essential to—"

"All of it, Miranda. All of it."

**The Dinner Date**

_In Which Commander Shepard Prepares for one of his Many Romantic Occasions_

"Oh hey Jack, how's being a psychotic bitch who can't express herself working out for you? What's with the tattoos-are you planning on audition for a dyke porn parody of _Prison Break_? Furthermore you are socially useless, mentally stunted, tactically brain dead, martially retarded and overall an absolute failure both as a human being and as a warrior. You lack merit in every way it is possible to be lacking."

Bastard Shepard checked gnarly stubble in the mirror and cleared his throat. He blinked at his reflection and turned his head every which way. "Hmm…That was about a seven, maybe a six I'd say." He forced a cough and wiped his thin skeletal lips on the back of one hand. The facial reconstruction surgery had botched in only one area: he now had the horrific bacon lips of Shia LaBeuof.

EDI's buzzing hologram popped up all the way back at his desk. Her voice managed to reach him in the washroom.

"Commander Shepard? What are you doing in there?"

Shepard sucked his upper lip dry. "I'm trying to figure out the best way to crack our favorite convict's emotional barriers and intimacy issues. Somewhere in there is a delicate flower, I tell you!" He turned around and pointed an accusatory finger at the toilet. "Hey you—yeah you, orange krogan! How does it feel to be an _orphan_! Feel the burn!" B. looked back at the doorway to the bathroom. "Hey EDI—what's that thing in the cargo hold called?"

"Jack?"

"No, the fatherless alien."

"Ah. Tali."

Shepard's eyes lit up. "Good one. I should remember to use that. But I was actually thinking of the Krogan. Not Zaed—he only looks like one."

"Grunt?"

"Yes, Grunt. The gentle giant who doesn't know his own strength. We should just call him Lennie and be done with it—I already had to shoot him once." Shepard looked back in the mirror. "I'll have to work on this later. Right now it's time for dinner with Kelly Chambers!"

He skipped happily back to his desk. EDI was still there.

"What the hell do you want, Caprica?"

"You have a call on your terminal, Commander," said the AI patiently.

"Oh thanks. So, how're Joker and you doing? Have you seen the male masturbator made to look like your computer core that I gave to Joker?

"No," said EDI in what almost sounded like a disturbed tone. "I wasn't aware that Jeff had acquired any such thing. I need to go." EDI blipped away and Shepard sat down with a grin. He leaned back in his chair and hit the answer button with the heel of his boot. Kelly Chamber's voice flooded the room.

"Commander, as the ship's psychologist I am responsible for the mental well being of the crew. I've been hearing some…disturbing rumors."

Shepard ignored her words. "So how about that date, Kelly? You know I love red heads. I told you that already, right? Why don't you wear that dancer's uniform. Or if you prefer we can eat dinner…au natural."

"That sounds unsanitary."

He waved a hand at the voice box. "Pff. The genitalia are some of the cleanest parts of the body. Unless you have AIDs. Do you have AIDS, Kelly? Do you have alien AIDS?"

"Actually I was talking about being near you; Private Wilkins says you made jokes about how inbred the colonists on the colony 'Harvest' are."

"So?"

"So he's from Harvest. So are his wife and kids. They were all born there."

"I know." Shepard picked his nails. "And in the same house too."

"And the entire colony was abducted by the Collectors."

"Collectors smechtors. Wilkins knows I was just having a bit of fun."

Kelly sighed. "Wilkins has been depressed ever since he got the news, sir."

"So is that my fault now?" asked Shepard, sitting defensively up in his chair.

"He said you started making the jokes right when the news arrived. In front of him. And then you followed him in the bath room and punched him until he cried. So yes, it is your fault."

"What a whiny bitch. Well I'll tell you what Kelly, you can forget about this dinner date and you can forget about my famous casserole too. I didn't hire you so that you could saddle me with the fucking stupid problems of my crew."

"Right. I was getting to that. I don't think we should talk anymore, unless there's something I need to give you. Like a bullet."

"Oh come on! Why not?" Shepard brought up his holo computer and began playing Minesweeper as he talked. "I thought we were really getting along really well. Of course you get along with every_thing _really well now don't you?"

"See, right there is the problem."

"What problem."

"You're a bastard."

B.'s eyebrows rose. He left the game and picked up a pair of sunglasses, sliding them on. "I'm _renegade_."

"Nope. My bastard sense is tingling."

"Maybe that's not what you think it is. Maybe it's Scale Itch."

The call went dead. Shepard stared at the silent box. Another love lost, another heart broken. Two more souls passing by each other in the endless night of space—touching once, but never truly connecting. Sorrow for the stars. Tragedy for the planets.

"God damn it I'm hungry."

He pressed a button. "GET UP HERE GARRUS AND MAKE ME MORE OF YOUR FAMOUS TURIAN SOUP!"

"Ah!" Garrus screamed back in surprised anger. "I told you Shepard: IT. WILL. KILL YOU."

Shepard slammed his fist down on the desk. "IT IS DELICOUS!"


	2. The Poker Game

**The Poker Game**

_In Which Commander Shepard Engages in a Sportsmanlike Sparring Match of Words and Cards_

Shepard walked into the engine room.

"Hey Tali! How's your dad—O WAIT."

Tali threw her boot knife at him.

Shepard dodged it. "Hey don't mind me," he said, sidling up behind Donnelley and Daniels. Tali scowled, though nobody could see it, and went to pick up her knife. Donnelley turned at feeling Shepard's breath on his neck and eyed Tali as she bent to pick up the weapon.

"That bio suit sure is snug…in all the right places," said the engineer out loud, waggling his eyebrows at Shepard. Tali stood up and glared at him too, fingering her knife. At least she was using it.

"You know I can hear you," she said testily.

Shepard was still staring creepily at Donnelley, who laughed nervously. "Aha…aha. I thought you couldn't hear anything with that bucket on your head."

Gabriella Daniels turned around. "Are you retarded Kenneth? Haven't you seen her talking to people before?"

"He was thinking with his dick," said Shepard helpfully.

"That must be why he's thinking so small, then," said Tali. She stalked back to her corner of the room.

Kenneth eyed her behind as she went. He elbowed Shepard conspiratorially and made as if to slap a phantom booty. "I think I'm thinking pretty big."

"Ha ha you're funny," said Shepard. "Let's play poker."

"That wouldn't be appropriate," said Gabriella.

"What could be more appropriate than obsessing over a pre-pubescent alien's ass?" Shepard pulled out a pack of nekkid lady cards and waggled his over plucked eyebrows.

Gabriel and Kenneth looked at each other with worried expressions. "Uh, no sir," she said. "Last time we played you somehow managed to have an entire royal flush three rounds in a row."

"Fine. Fuck you guys, maybe Tali will play cards with me." Shepard pushed roughly past Kenneth and made his way back over to Tali.

"Hey Tali! How's your dad doing—"

Five minutes later Dr. Chakwas was leaning over a pale, sweaty, half naked Commander Shepard as she carefully stitched the knife wound in his leg shut.

"You really should work on your social skills," she said absently as she pulled the last very large twine-like stitch through Shepard's wound. She had picked out her largest, dirtiest needle for the surgery.

Shepard hissed in pain. "Are you sure I can't have anesthetic?"

"Better not," said Chakwas judiciously. "We have no idea what drugs could do to your cybernetic implants. Wouldn't want you to die all over again, would we?" she smiled as if at some fond memory.

"But I take drugs all the time." Shepard shook his head ruefully. "Whatever. I can't believe Tali would stab me like that. What a drama queen."

"You were talking about her dead father again, weren't you?" Chakwas clipped the excess twine off and swabbed the scar again with alcohol. When she stood up her eyes were forced to fall over Shepard's whitey tightys.

"You should wear boxers," she said, pinching her lower lip. "It's more military."

"What's wrong with your mouth?" asked Shepard, standing up and looking for his blood stained pants. "Finally growing those post-menopausal stubbles? You'd better get used to shaving every morning like the other men do!"

Chakwas scowled and grabbed a set of crutches. She held them to Shepard just out of arm's reach. "You shouldn't walk unassisted with that wound."

"I know. Give them to me." Shepard made a feeble grab, careful not to step.

Chakwas kept the crutches out of his reach as she picked up a medical report and began reading it. "Go on Shepard. Take them."

"I can't reach."

She looked up with a look of mock confusion on her face. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

B. narrowed his eyes. "Can I have the crutches?"

"Hm?"

"Can I have the crutches…_please_?"

"Oh! Of course Commander." Chakwas dropped them on the floor. "Make sure not to bend over either," she added, then winked, "No more visits to Grunt for a while!"

"Oh you." Shepard flicked a wrist at her. "You're one to talk, you lusty old hag—we all know who's been sneaking up to Jacob's cabin. Someone likes her chocolate." He knelt carefully on one leg to pick up the crutches, then propped himself up. Chakwas was still reading the report.

"You lost a lot of blood," she said without looking up. "Make sure to drink some apple juice or something."

Shepard nodded. "Okay. By the way I bought you that Serrice Ice Brandy you've always wanted."

She looked up with wide eyes. "Really?"

"Nope." Shepard turned around and hobbled out of the med bay. He breathed in the fresh air of the mess hall and then made his way towards Mess Sergeant Gardener.

"Hey there Iron Chef." Shepard propped his crutches up and leaned over the counter. "I've got some bad pain. Hit me with your thinnest, most piss-tastingest wine, you untalented warthog. You wouldn't last five minutes in Hell's Kitchen."

"You know I don't prepare the wine," said Gardener as he produced a bottle of vintage varren piss, a krogan delicacy. He re-opened the bottle and poured Shepard a glass. "They just ship this stuff to us and I serve it. Now if you bought those high grade provisions…"

"…it would still be terrible," finished Shepard, eying the cloudy liquid before taking a deep swig. He smacked his lips as Gardener looked on. "Wow Gardener, this isn't actually that bad."

Gardener grinned. "That's funny because I've—"

"For the worst wine in the universe."

"…been spitting in this bottle every day for the past month," finished the Mess Sergeant.

"I thought it tasted like talentless failure," said Shepard, sliding the glass back over the counter so hard that it shot off the end and spilled yellow all over Gardener's uniform. He grinned as the man's face turned from spiteful amusement to red outrage.

Shepard stood up. "So. How're the wife and kids?"

Gardener's face darkened. "I lost everything to Batarian raiders, Shepard. That's why I joined Cerberus.

"Oh you poor man." Shepard shook his head ruefully and put a hand on the Sergeant shoulder. "Look…I'm sorry. I'll get you those high grade provisions you've always wanted."

"Really?" asked Gardener suspiciously. "For real this time?"

"Yes." Shepard smiled earnestly, real pathos cracking his veneer if icy cruelty. "For real this time."

_"EDI?"_

_ "Yes Commander?"_

_ "Order another ton of those high grade provisions Gardener wants."_

_ "Yes Shepard. Shall I finally alert him to the other forty seven tons already in the hold?"_

_ "No. Never do that. Ever."_


	3. The Score

**The Score**

_In Which Commander Shepard Gladly Offers his Help to an Old Friend in Need_

"Shepard, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Shepard looked up guiltily from one of the escape pods lining the bulkheads of the forward batteries, hiding something behind his back as he turned towards the voice.

Garrus Vakarian looked at Shepard with a hint of the suspicion, the burned side of his raptor-like turian visage crinkling much less than the undamaged portion. "What…what are you doing?" He knew the Commander all too well from the old days; once, during a three day shore leave, Navigator Pressly had been locked in the briefing room without food or water while hardcore interspecies pornography played constantly at full volume on every video screen. No one ever found out who did it, but the way Shepard had laughed loudly and made masturbation jokes every time someone asked where Pressly might be was somewhat of a tip off.

Shepard whistled innocently. "Nothing. This is Tali's escape pod, right?"

"I don't think any of the crew members actually have their own escape pods. We all just take whichever one we can-if there's a problem, I mean." The turian rubbed his forehead. "Like last time."

Some of the survivors of the Collector attack still fervently believed that Pressly had wanted to die.

"Oh." Shepard slid the proximity activated recording of Admiral Rael'Zorah's posthumous sentencing and exile into his back pocket. "That's weird. Kasumi told me this one was Tali's."

Garrus raised an eyebrow. "Maybe it was a joke?"

"Yeah. Never trust a woman that wants a soul patch so much she tattoos it onto her face." B. Shepard ran a hand through his bleach blonde over-gelled douche hair and gave Garrus a look. "Did you have something you wanted to say there Dirty Garry?"

"Oh yeah." Garrus shrugged a noncommittal shoulder. "I see you're off the crutches. How did that happen anyways? I heard you got shanked down in the engine room."

"You know how rumors are. The truth is I was just having incredibly hot and rough sex with Jack. I mauled her a little too hard so she slammed a switchblade into my thigh as a hint to lighten the asphyxiation up a bit."

Garrus's mouth fell slowly open as he listened.

Shepard stopped his ramblings to look around the room."You said that area downstairs is the engine room? I thought this was the engine room."

Garrus gave him a blank stare. "No. No, these are the forward batteries."

"But EDI said…hm." B. stroked his chin thoughtfully. "She has been cross with me ever since I accidentally barged into the lady's restroom ten times. Seems like everyone is playing me nowadays."

"Ah," said Garrus darkly, the shadows of the room seeming to intensify. "I know all about getting played, Shepard."

"Uh huh."

Garrus turned hard away to glare at the large power generator for the Thoraxe cannon as if it had personally offended him. "Yep. _Sidonis_ screwed us: me, my team, the families of my team who were counting on me to bring them home safe."

"…uh huh…"

"I may have failed them but _Sidonis _is a damn traitor and he deserves to die."

"Wow." Shepard made rabbit ears with his fingers. "This '_Sidonis_' guy sounds like a real nasty piece of work. Did it hurt when he screwed you, Garry?"

Garrus made a fist. "You have no idea."

Shepard leered. "With his whole fist, huh?"

"What?" Garurs looked at his fist and became very flustered. "No! Sidonis—I mean, _Sidonis_, he was part of my team, and—"

Shepard's lip curled. "I know how the story goes: you've told it to me enough god damn times. Maybe if you got off your bony ass and did something about it you wouldn't spend all day in this musty pit 'calibrating' yourself."

The disfigured turian threw his claws up in disgust. "That's what I was _trying _to do until you interrupted me—I mean, do something about _Sidonis_, not calibrate. That's what I was trying to do. Something about _Sidonis_, that is."

Shepard put a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "Garrus, if you don't get to the point right now I will murder you."

"I was getting to it." Garrus took a deep breath. "Recently I got a call from someone. Doesn't matter who. Thing is, it turns out _Sidonis _is somewhere on the Citadel. If I can get to Fade, the man who—"

Shepard squeezed his shoulder. "I am serious, I will murder you right now."

Garrus shrugged him off. "Fine. Can we stop by the citadel and kill _Sidonis _if it's not too much trouble?"

"Trouble?" Shepard shook his head jovially. "Of course not! I've just been making mass relay jumps between there and Omega every time I forget to finish one of the half completed assignments I somehow lost in my journal days ago. It would be no trouble at all to add another pointless waste of time to the bloated ejaculation of useless menial tasks constantly flooding my every orifice every second of every day."

Garrus's face brightened. "So you'll do it? Great! I knew I could count on you, Shepard. You know I've always considered you a mentor and role model."

He had already turned around and was about to leave, but this comment stopped the Commander cold. He looked back. "A what, Garrus?"

Garrus shuffled his feet awkwardly. "A, um. Role model. I've never seen eye to eye with my father, or C-SEC, you know, and I just think that a soldier needs to get things done no matter the cost and—"

"Are you serious?"

He drew himself up. "Yes. Yes I am, Shepard. You get results and I think that's what matters. That's what real heroes do—they don't make friends, they don't make nice: they make things happen."

"Yeah, sure, but…a role model?"

Garrus smirked knowingly. "Ha, well, not personality wise. But you know what I mean."

"Wow." Shepard sucked on his lower lip. "This means a lot to me. I don't know what to say Garrus, except that it's no wonder you got your whole team killed!" He gave two thumbs up and a wink. "Seeya later buddy!"


	4. Evening the Score

**Evening the Score**

_In Which Commander Shepard Solves Problems with Diplomacy and Tact_

The volus made a welcoming gesture towards Shepard, Garrus, and Grunt. "That's me. I'm Fade." He indicated the two thuggish krogans standing behind him and regarding Grunt with some awe. "Don't try anything funny."

Shepard groaned in irritation. "Great. We had to trudge half way across the fucking citadel just to be threatened by this turd on life support." He jerked his head at the krogans. "And who're they? Fade's Angels?"

The volus looked at him, small yellow eye ports blinking rapidly. "…no."

"Ah. The Fade Sisters."

One of the krogans started, its eyes widening. "The human knows we are females!"

"Shh!" the other waved its hands frantically. "Shut up Becky!"

"Can we move this along?" asked Garrus, looking pointedly at Shepard.

"You're telling me." He sighed and pulled out his pistol. "Jeez Garry, you're so tense lately." Two super advanced mass effect bullets caught each krogan in the head, killing them instantly and spraying deep orange blood all over everyone in the room.

"You've gotta learn to relax, buddy," said B. as the krogans crumpled limply to the ground, the booming report of the pistol ringing in the ears of those still living.

"Shepard!" Grunt grunted. "You just ruined my one chance to tap _twins!_"

Shepard raised an eyebrow as the volus screamed and turned to run. "Those were twins? Krogan _always_ look the same to me." He casually tripped and then kicked the rotund alien in the face, rolling the round body like a soccer ball through a pool of krogan blood and over to Garrus, who planted a foot on the volus's exo-suited chest and pulled his own pistol out.

"Where's _Sidonis_?"

"I'm not Fade!" squealed the volus frantically, waving his hands back and forth as if projecting some sort of invisible shield through the sheer biotic power of his pants-shitting fear. "I'm just a double—or a proxy!"

Garrus leaned in close, pressing the muzzle of his pistol into one of the suit's eye sockets. "Then where's the _reeeeeeeeal _Fade? Answer me, or I'll give you one more volhole than you shipped with!"

"And tell us where the real Fade's Darlings are," put in Shepard. Grunt still looked pissed.

The volus fiddled with his omni tool. "He's at one of the warehouses. I'll give you the coordinates, just don't hurt me!"

Garrus let up. "Thanks. And this info better be good, or we'll be back to finish the job."

"Yeah," added Shepard. "And give Fade a message from me—"

Garrus put a hand on the Commander's armored shoulder. "We're going to Fade right now. It would actually be counter-productive to send him a message."

"Fine." Shepard resigned himself to just shooting the volus three times in the face and jogged after the turian. "That went well" he said as they emerged blood soaked and totting smoking pistols into the Shipping and Receiving district of the Citadel. Garrus rolled his beady blue eyes.

"I didn't get to shoot anyone," complained Grunt.

Shepard punched him lightly in the neck. "Shut up, there'll be plenty of people to shoot when we get to the warehouse."

"Fine," pouted the krogan. "But I'm still mad at you for ruining my chance at some three way action."

Garrus snapped at him as they crossed the room towards the ground car. "Everyone knows you're a virgin, Grunt; stop acting like you'd even know what to do with it."

B. looked at the perpetually fuming Garrus with pride in his eyes. "You weren't kidding about that role model thing, were you? I'm proud of you." He patted the spiny head of the turian, who only pretended to irritably push Shepard away, as inside he was obviously beaming with pride and father son bonding type emotions.

A homeless Quarian woman stared at the odd party as they went by. Grunt barked at her, taking his anger out on innocent women by proxy. He would grow up to be a great krogan.

Shepard happily opened the door to the air car when it arrived. "Good times Garry. Maybe this stupid bullshit isn't such a huge god damn waste of time after all."

"I'm glad you like hanging out with me so much," said Garrus dryly as he got into the passenger side seat.

"Where am I supposed to sit?" asked Grunt.

Shepard started the car. "Get in the trunk."

Eventually they arrived at the entrance to a warehouse. Warehouse 13, to be exact.

"Uh oh," said Shepard as he landed, peering out the window all the while. "Looks like a big place. This is going to be quite the long haul." Without looking he patted the dashboard in front of Garrus. "Buddy, I take back everything positive I ever said about this entire debacle. I wish I had never even run into you down in the cargo hold."

"Forward batteries," corrected Garrus absently, un-holstering his rifle and hopping out of the car. He popped the trunk and waited for the dazed krogan to crawl out, as in the front Shepard slid off his seat and removed his driving sunglasses. They regrouped and headed down a makeshift alleyway of accumulated boxes and anachronistic John Deer forklifts.

Waiting for them at the other end were a handful of blue armored characters that looked none to friendly, as well as an ugly and unhealthy looking bald guy in a c-sec uniform.

"So you're the ones looking for me…" he trailed off, eyes flicking from Shepard to Garrus.

Shepard gaped. "Harkin! So the volus really was an identical double after all!"

"Still as obnoxious as ever, I see." Harkin turned to Garrus. "Vakarian!"

"Harkin!" hissed Garrus.

"Vakarian!" said Shepard enthusiastically.

"Shepard!" said Grunt.

"Krogan!" said Harkin.

"Grunt!" said Garrus.

"Bluuuuuue suuuunssss!" It was Shepard, pointing at them. With his pistol.

"GET THEM!" Harkin dove for the door as the Blue Suns opened fire on the group.

"MOTHER FUCKER YOU DO NOT WALK." Shepard shot Harkin in the knee, blowing the corrupt c-sec officer's kneecap apart and sending him crashing to the ground. Garrus and Grunt opened fire on the mercenaries as Shepard dove for cover, two high caliber slugs catching him in his shielded ass to help him on his way.

"Someone get me out of here!" croaked Harkin through the pain. One of the blue suns ran over and grabbed him roughly under the arms, dragging him through the door and closing it behind them.

"God damn it!" screamed Shepard. "I do NOT want to wade through this entire factory after him. Garrus—hit these mother fuckers with the fattest concussion blast you can pull out of your dextro-dna cloaca!"

Garrus nodded and flipped a switch on his rifle, then wheeled around the corner and let loose a white lightening bolt into the clustered blue suns. The mercenaries were knocked every which way, dazed by the enhanced range of the explosion. Only the high ranking mercenary with heavy tech armor was unaffected, and she got off a rocket that nearly hit Garrus full in the face before he ducked back behind cover. It detonated against their car.

"Catch!" Shepard threw a flash grenade as the blue suns recovered. It detonated right in the face of the heavy, frying her retinas. She reeled back with a scream.

"Grunt! Do that roid rage thing."

"Shepard." Grunt barreled around the corner. "I AM KROOOOOOGAAAAAAN." He tore into the remaining mercenaries with his shotgun which also shot exploding fire bullets. In a few moments the battle was over.

Garrus rushed past Shepard and Grunt. "Quickly, we can still catch Harkin. He can't have gone far! I'm going tear that bastard's balls out of his ass!"

Shepard observed Garrus's slavering countenance with earnest pride. "Go get 'em you over sized bloodthirsty hunting falcon!" A single tear fell from his eye.

They piled through the door. Over a stack of unnecessary metal sheets and past several conveniently placed crates they saw the retreating back of the blue suns merc dragging Harkin to safety. At the same time two LOKI mechs hobbled out of a nearby cargo crate on their pathetic shit legs, both aiming pistols at the squad.

"Forget the tin men!" screamed Shepard, pointing with two fingers right at the mercenary. "NAIL THAT SUN OF A BITCH."

"Right!" Garrus set up shop atop the metal sheets, propping his rifle up so that he could get a good shot. The merc had almost dragged Harkin around a corner.

Shepard back handed a LOKI's pathetic wobble-head off its shoulders. "Garrus! TAKE THE SHOT!"

He fired. The bullet went wide and the mercenary disappeared around a corner. "FUCK!" Garrus stormed to his feet, then kicked the rifle off the stack and rounded on Shepard. "God damn it Shepard you made me miss my shot!"

Shepard's arms flailed about in spastic indignation. "_Me?_ How is this _my _fault!"

Grunt tossed the limp chassis of the other mech aside and cleared his throat. "Vakarian? Battlemaster?…Guys?"

Garrus poked Shepard in the chest. "_You_ told me to take the shot! That's just what my father from c-sec did that one time that I had to take a shot and nail a perp, and when you said that I thought of my father and it made me mad at him and it threw off my aim!"

"WHAT!"

"You guys. Seriously you guys." Grunt raised a hand. "He's getting away."

Shepard rounded on him. "Oh thanks tube toad, I hadn't noticed!"

Garrus for his part jumped in surprise. "Damn! We can kill each other later Sheaprd—right now I have a score to settle with _Fade _and his _Customer_, or rather _Harkin_ and _Sidonis_."Garrus grabbed his rifle by the muzzle and then chased after Harkin into the maze of crates and cargo, waving it like a club and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Oh you did not just say that like I thought you said that." Shepard grasped the air in Garrus's wake and pulled hard as if ripping something apart. His breath escaped in a deep grumbling belch of malice.

"**FUUUUUCK**."


	5. Settling the Score

**Settling the Score**

_In Which Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian Bond Like Father and Son_

Harkin stumbled up from his chair at the factory's control console as Shepard and his squad entered the room. He limped backwards towards the door, hand reaching for the open panel with manic grin on his face.

"You were close, Shepard. But not close enough."

Shepard shot him in the balls and his crotch erupted in spray of red and pulpy flesh and he screamed. He fell to the ground with bowed legs as his shaking hands tried to stem the catastrophic flow of blood from between them. He fell onto his side with sad thump and lay there in the fetal position.

"Look out guys," said Shepard calmly as Garrus approached the prone and weeping Harkin from behind. "He's getting away." Then he shot Harkin in other leg, almost blowing the limb in half at the knee. Blood and fragments of bone sprayed everywhere, especially onto Garrus.

"Damn it." Garrus wiped blood from his face. "You know if you kill him this will all have been one huge waste of time."

"Like it wasn't already."

Garrus hunkered down over Harkin. "Give me some medigel."

"No way am I wasting medigel on him," said Shepard stubbornly.

"You're the one that shot him. Twice. We had this under control you know, there was nowhere for him to go."

"I get the job done. No matter the cost."

"Yeah, well," Garrus held up Harkin's limp wrist. "He's dead."

"Oh."

"Can I eat his body?" asked Grunt.

Garrus ignored him and held up his other hand. It had a small PDA on it. "But this is Harkin's personal data assistant. It's got to have the contact information we need on it."

"Oh great." Shepard rolled his eyes. "And I thought we were done."

Garrus stared at him. "Are you intentionally murdering people and sabotaging my mission just to get it over with?"

"Maybe." Shepard cleared his throat. "So. What do you think the password is?"

"Probably something stupid, like 'Lightening' or 'Cheetafist.' Harkin was an idiot."

"How about 'starkiller,'" suggested Grunt.

Shepard turned to him. "That's actually pretty good. If that's really the password then I'm sorry I killed the guy."

"It's not," said Garrus. "By the way, I'm not sure whether or not to turn you in to C-Sec for that. He was technically a cop." Garrus thumbed something in on the PDA. "I'm in. Searching for _Sidonis_ now."

Shepard made sure his pistol was reloaded. "He was an ex-cop and he was working with the blue suns. He'd probably already killed dozens of people to cover up his customers." He looked up. "What was the password?"

Garrus eyed him while still typing. "'Lazarus.' Anyone involved with something called that has got to be the biggest jack ass in the galaxy, huh?"

"For sure. And that goes double for turians dumb enough to join up with them."

Garrus pocketed the PDA and stood up. "It's done; I've set up a meeting with _Sidonis_."

Grunt frowned. "How?"

"Text messaging."

They turned to leave. Shepard made sure to kick Harkin's smelly body on the way out.

The air car set down on a rooftop overlooking a kind of public park in the Citadel. There was a bench and some imported alien flora, with plenty of people milling about. Garrus was in the passenger seat and Shepard was driving. Grunt was locked in the trunk again.

"Here's the plan," said Garrus as he recalibrated his scope for the one thousandth time. "I set up behind that chest high wall over on that roof while you go down and distract _Sidonis_. I'll tell you when I've got a clear shot."

"Uh huh." Shepard put the car in park. He was wearing a rather large and lumpy overcoat for some reason or another. Garrus gave him a narrow look.

"What's with the getup, Shepard?"

"I have become a flasher."

"I'm sorry I asked." They got out of the car. Before Garrus could run off to get positioned Shepard put a hand on his arm.

"Garrus, I want to talk to you," he said carefully.

The turian sighed. "This isn't a good time Shepard. I just want to get this done and move on."

Shepard shook his head in all seriousness. "You're not being your usual self, Garry. The Garry I know wouldn't stand by while I murdered four people in cold blood. You're changing. Omega changed you."

"Omega changes a lot of things," said Garrus darkly.

Shepard bit his lip thoughtfully. "Yep. But it always smells the same. Look," he patted Garrus on the shoulder. "I know I've been whining this whole time and everything, but I just want you to know… I totally one hundred percent approve of your new direction."

Garrus stared at him.

Shepard continued obliviously. "In fact despite everything I said I'm actually having a lot of fun today. Well, relatively. To death."

"That's…great." The turian nodded slowly. "I don't' know what to say—"

Shepard raised a hand in admonishment. "There's no need to say anything—"

"Except it's no wonder you got everyone aboard the Normandy killed!" Garrus gave a grin and thumbs up that dripped with sarcasm and then turned on his heel. "Seeya later buddy!"

As Bastard Shepard watched him go a tear fell from one hazel blue eye. "…You are my pupil in true spirit…_Garrus Vakarian_."

A few minutes later B. stalked into the park, overcoat flowing dramatically over his armor. He stood in the middle of the area and drew many strange looks from the passersby.

"Are you in position?" asked Shepard into his little hidden radio.

"Yes. We've lured Sidonis out of his lair; he should be arriving soon. When he does I'll blow a hole right through his gray box."

"Overlord," said Shepard.

"What?"

"Nothing." He had just spotted a furtive looking turian watching him. The turian, wearing a black suit, shuffled over to Shepard and spoke to him in hushed tones.

"What's this about? I told Fade's people never to contact me!" he husked.

"Are you Sidonis?" asked Shepard.

"That's him!" hissed Garrus on the radio. "Step aside Shepard, so I can get a clear shot!"

"Yes, I'm Sidonis." The turian squinted at him suspiciously. "Now what's this all about?"

"Let me show you," said Shepard. He opened his overcoat to reveal a vest covered in old earth directional anti-personnel claymore mines, all aimed straight at him.

"Derka derka, Muhammad Jyhad. Sherpa Sherpa, a backa-la."

The turian's mouth dropped open. "What the fuck—"

Fifty seconds later a Commander Shepard covered in purple puree slammed the door to the air car and quickly activated its engine for lift off. Garrus was sitting next to him, staring silently at the windshield.

"Good team work huh?" asked Shepard happily as the car rose into the air and joined the air traffic. A few bullet tracers followed their car from the smoldering wreckage of the park below.

"I cannot believe you did that," said the stunned turian.

B. blew his nose, spraying something that resembled purple squash fibers onto the dashboard. "I know, it was pretty awesome."

"_You suicide bombed a public park_."

Shepard held up a finger. "Okay, one: it was not a suicide bombing because I am still alive. And two: I only killed Sidonis, nobody else got hurt. Probably. I think. I'm pretty sure. Nobody complained."

"I was supposed to kill Sidonis," said Garrus lamely. "That was the whole point of this!"

"It was?" Shepard turned a hard into traffic. "Gee, I'm sorry. You shoulda told me." He nudged Garrus roughly in the side, still grinning and covered in blood. "But hey, at least we bonded, right? Let's go down to the cargo hold again and you can tell me one of your creepy inappropriate sex stories about some scout you banged."

"Forward batteries," corrected Garrus. "And no. I'm pretty sure we did the exact opposite of bonding."

Shepard directed the car towards the nearest space port. "Oh come on. You're just like me now, aren't you?" He smirked in self satisfaction. "Shepard and Garrus on the road again. Spectres from hell. Well, one Spectre, one failure. But you know what I mean."

The bedraggled turian slumped in his seat. "I don't think so: killed three people when they hadn't even drawn their weapons—one of them didn't even have weapons. You shot the limbs off of an unarmed man until he bled to death. You set off a bomb in the middle of a public park. I swear to god Shepard, if it's the last thing I do I will make sure I never end up anything like you."

Bastard Shepard looked at Garrus and his eyes widened in horrified realization. "Oh my god Garrus…we left Grunt in the trunk!"


	6. The One that Got Away

**The One that Got Away**

_In Which Commander Shepard Parlays Desperately with a Woman of Tender Virtues, Undeniable Class, and Enthralling Charisma_

_ "'Do I run Omega?'" scoffed Aria. "I AM Omega."_

_ Shepard looked around at the grungy, stinking strip club full of boozed up losers and slutty mainlining Asari strippers. The place smelled of decay, both of the moral and mental sort; mutated wasps huddling in a sickly heap around the hive they found in Afterlife, which was perched smack dab in the center of the dry torpid heat of millions dying beneath a pall of disease and poverty everyday._

"_Good for you."_

_ Aria lounged back in her chair. "Watch that tongue, Shepard. There's only one rule on Omega: don't fuck with Aria."_

_ "If you forget," said the batarian behind him, "I'll toss your ass out the nearest airlock."_

___"That's fucking terrifying," said Shepard. He looked at Aria speculatively. "Good thing I'm not into dudes!"_

_ Aria raised an eyebrow. "You must be pretty stupid if you can't tell the difference between women and men."_

_ Shepard put a mocking hand to his mouth. "Really? I could have sworn you've been waving your giant purple pecking stick at me ever since I arrived in this shit hole. Exactly what is it do you think I'll do? Try to start my own gang of six eyed freaks?"_

_ The batarian growled._

_ Kasumi cleared her throat. "Hey Shep, let's not piss off the crime Queen of Omega, okay?"_

_ "I second the motion," said Miranda. "It's best not to aggravate lower class scum."_

_ Shepard rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the advice Master Race."_

_Aria smiled cheerfully. "You've got balls Shepard, I'll give you that. But not a lot of smarts."_

_ "Should I take care of them?" asked the batarian, hand stretching towards his pistol._

_ Shepard touched a hand to his earpiece. "Hey Joker? I want you to undock and fire the Thanix cannon onto my position."_

_ Miranda and Kasumi looked at each other._

_Aria waved a finger at them all. "Now now boys, no need to get dramatic. I'm sure Shepard just wants some information and then he can be on his way." She raised her eyebrows at him. "It would be a shame to waste all that money Cerberus put into you."_

_ "OH MY GOD YOU KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ME. Except that my radio isn't turned on." Shepard plopped down into the seat right next to Aria. "I'm looking for Mordin Solus the Salarian Spergfest. Heard of him?"_

_ "I hear everything," began Aria, waving away the thugs that approached to yank Shepard to a more respectable distance away._

_ "Yeah, you're Queen Bitch of Omega. I get it."_

_ "Good. If you forget, someone will remind you" _

_ "Then I'll toss you out the nearest airlock," said the batarian again, on cue._

_ Shepard leaned away from her, his body shaking from the douche chills. "I don't think I'm going to be forgetting any time soon. Do you guys rehearse that or something?"_

_ "Good. And yes, we do." Aria smiled, obviously pleased with herself. _

_ "Fuck me. Where's Mordin?"_

_ "I like Mordin," said Aria._

_ "That's not what I asked. I asked where he was."_

_ "I don't care. But if you really want to know he's in the clinic, in the slums. It's a great place to live nowadays what with the plague and mercenaries shooting everything that moves while the vorcha gnaw on the corpses of the dead."_

_ Shepard's eyes crossed. "Sounds great. Do they get cable in there? How's the commute to your bedroom?"_

_ "Funny." Aria waved a hand. "You can go now. Humans are usually immune, except when they take it in the butt from vorcha. So try not to bring the plague back with you. _

"_Don't worry about me; I'm not the one from the race who can't decide if they're men or women when anything with a pulse steps into the room." Shepard stood up and made for the exit of Aria's VIP box. "Thanks for nothing," he said over his shoulder._

_ "You're welcome. And one more thing," called out Aria, sitting calmly with her legs crossed as they receded from view around the corner. "If you ever get near me again without asking permission I will send you back to your ship in a box."_

_ "Why don't you suck my box?"shouted Shepard at top volume in the middle of the club. Kasumi laughed nervously and pushed him gently towards the door. Miranda made sure nobody was following._

_ They exited into the glowing red florescence of what passed for 'outside' on Omega. Anywhere else it would have passed as a bm._

_ "I think that might have been handled a little better," said Miranda."For one we could have avoided starting a feud with the most powerful person on this lump of rock."_

_ "What are you talking about? I thought we got along great."_

_ "She threatened your life three times," said Kasumi. "I counted."_

_ "Glad to know you're good for something." Shepard waved a hand as Kasumi scuffed the ground sulkily. "Besides, she was all over me."_

_ "Are you saying we just observed some sort of primitive mating ritual between bastads?" asked Miranda with clinical interest._

_ "Absolutely," said Shepard. "When two bastards meet they must exchange preemptive threats to establish their territory, and then move on to unnecessary insults to gauge each other's levels of bastardness. I think I've found a match if I do say so myself." He beamed as Kasumi and Miranda looked on in some amazement. "One day," continued Shepard, "we'll make little bastards together." _

_ "You're joking," said Miranda._

_ "Yes." Shepard shouldered past her. "Now let's go wade through the slums and get diseases."_

"But our love never came to anything. And so that's the one that got away," said Shepard, finishing the story and spreading his hands like Jesus delivering alms to the poor.

Miranda pursed her lips. "The story would have been better without the part where you lied."

"Shut up."

"Yeah, Miranda's right—I don't think we even ever met Aria again," said Kasumi, finishing her sake and sitting back in her chair in the Illium Longue.

"That's because you just weren't there when we did you useless chink," snapped Shepard. Kasumi flipped him off as he pointed a finger at Samara, who had been talking to Mordin. "But you were."

"Yes," said the Justicar serenely. "It was when we were taking care of my…personal business on Omega."

"Yeah, and what a waste of time that was. But things were different with Aria." Shepard nodded proudly to himself.

"How so?" asked Thane.

"That time it was that gay turian, not the batarian who said they'd toss me out the airlock."

Jack laughed. "Ha! Shepard got cock blocked by the gay turian."

Mordin looked up from his Mountain Dew. "Learn from experience; diplomacy sometimes pays off." He grinned. "Sometimes not."

Shepard did not smile. "What the hell, Mordin. Why did you get a fountain drink? We have those at the Normandy."

Mordin stirred the cup with his straw. "Fizzier here—more air to each sip, enhances texture."

"You're paying for the tab." Shepard stood up. "You guys wait here, I'm going to go start conversations with the bartender until she randomly mentions sex so I can laugh like a school girl."


	7. The Lothario

**The Lothario**

_In Which Commander Shepard Seduces Hardened Soldiers, Criminals, and Teenagers_

"_Go on, Shepard," taunted Tela Vasir, pressing the muzzle of her pistol into the woman's neck. "You wouldn't want her to get hurt, would you?"_

_ "Shepard!" hissed Liara, "distract her while I throw that table at her!"_

_ "Don't worry." Shepard un-holstered his grenade launcher. "I've got this under control."_

"Hey Zaeed, what're your old brittle bones and near senility doing for you?"

"What the hell do you want, Shepard?"

"I like your face."

"Fuck you, Shepard."

Shepard poked the control panel, causing more random garbage cubes to be ejected into space without meaning or logic. "So…"

Zaeed threw a knife straight into the wall. He punctuated its waning vibration with a satisfied grunt.

"So, heard from Vido?"

The mercenary gritted his teeth and produced another knife. "No. I probably won't have a chance to track him down for another twenty years. If I even live that long." He eyed Shepard's exposed back and fingered the knife before reluctantly turning back towards his impromptu dart-board.

"Ha. Yeah."

"This is funny to you? We had a chance to take out the leader of the Blue Suns. You blew it." Zaeed threw the knife and it buried itself into the target. He imagined that target was Shepard's eye and felt a great surge of pleasure in his heart, as well as in his loins.

Shepard turned around, pointing a lecturing finger at him. "Those workers needed help, bud. I don't sacrifice lives for revenge except when it's me and then I do."

"What are you talking about?" Zaeed unsheathed the last knife. "You turned the thermostat up and left them to die."

"If you hadn't shot those fuel lines," began Shepard.

"Spare me the lecture." Zaeed leaned up against the wall and looked Shepard up and down with disdain. "A mass murdering mercenary commander is alive and those people are dead. Also, Vido got away. You know, you rack up a hefty body count for someone who doesn't do jack shit."

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh man, thanks." He skipped over to Zaeed's worktable and leaned over it, peering down at the old rusty rifle there. "Wow! Is this your old rifle Jessie?"

"Yep. I killed my way across the Terminus system with that gun," said the grizzled Mercenary. He eyed Shepard. "Don't touch it. That rifle is older than you are. Had to retire her a few years back…like she'd finally had enough killing and just wanted to rest." He felt a tear in his eye and blinked it away.

"Wow. You're a faggot," said Shepard with some awe, peering down at the rifle. "Seems like Jessie has seen a lot of action."

"Obviously."

Shepard pointed to the rifle's muzzle. "So…when you fucked her, did you put in her main firing chamber? Or her heat sink ejection port?"

"So Jack. How's the skin head routine going?"

Jack looked up from the data pad she was reading. "Just fucking great. What the fuck do you want?"

Shepard leaned against the red lit wall and crossed his arms coolly. "Dunno. Just thought we could fucking chat for a fucking bit. We didn't part on the best of terms last time."

Jack shrugged. "The way you talked shit for an hour made me kind of horny."

Shepard laughed. Jack thumbed the data pad again, glaring balefully down at it. "What do you want to talk about?"

He sighed. "I don't fucking know—just shoot the shit. I tried to seduce Zaed but it didn't go well."

"Boo fucking hoo," said Jack. She set the data pad down and glared at him. "Do you know what forced isolation is like, Shepard?"

Shepard cupped his forehead in a hand. "Here we go again…"

Jack scowled and stood up, then began to pace back and forth. "It's like being in a bubble—a bubble made of glass, and no one else can see you or care about you. And you pound on the glass until the bones in your hands are broken and bloody, but no one can see you. And you know one day—you can feel it starting—you'll run out of air."

Shepard yawned into his hand. "Cool story bro. So, find anything interesting in that Cerberus data pad?"

"Not yet." Jack grunted and plopped back down on her cot. "Thanks for that, though."

"Whatever. I just gave it to you to piss Miranda off." Shepard stared at her. "Can we have sex now?"

"Sure, just let me check to make sure hell's frozen over." Jack looked around. "Looks like that's a no. Sorry Shepard."

"Oh come on." Shepard gave her a once over. "Why would you walk around dressed like that it if you didn't want it bad?"

"That's the exact thing a rapist would say," said Jack. "And I would know, because _I've been raped_."

"Whoa there." Shepard raised his hands. "Don't get all memory-flashback on me now. The last thing we need is _another_ traumatized emo who recites crappy flash fiction exercises from a teenager's creative writing class!"

"_I was raped by eight men_," said Jack. She raised a fist in front of her face. "_I tracked them down and murdered them one by one_. _His neck snaps under my fingers like week old celery. Blood oozes from between my white teeth like thick red tar. Vengeance. Completeness. Never be complete again._"

Shepard groaned in disgust then turned on his heel and walked away, Jack's stifled and enraged sobs ringing in his ears. As he left the hold he bumped in to Tali leaving the engine room.

"Hey Tali." Shepard leaned to the side so that he could stare at her ass. "So…what's up?"

Tali stopped and shuffled in a circle, turning her head sideways to try and see what Shepard was staring at. "Did I step in something?" She balanced on one chicken foot and looked at the underside of the other. Seeing nothing, she looked up at Shepard with suspicion in her visor. She put her foot down and made to move past him but Shepard put a hand on the wall, leaning into her path.

"So," he said again. "Where do you sleep anyway? It seems like you spend all your time in the engine room. Maybe you need to…_unwind_." He waggled his pale blonde eyebrows at her. Beneath those pale blonde eyebrows were eyes that were a bluish hazel color.

"Unwind?" asked Tali in an apprehensive voice.

Shepard winked.

Tali clutched both hands to her voice box and threw up into her helmet. Fortunately, her suit was equipped to handle just such an occurrence; it sucked the vomit into a compartment for later waste ejection and scrubbed her face down with an air blade and sanitizing spray.

"Hot," said Shepard. "Was that a yes?"

Tali's straightened up, fingering her combat knife—which she now kept in her waist band for easy use. "Do you want me to stab you again?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that trick question?"

"No."

"Then…Then no, I don't want you to stab me. Unless it was some sort of sexual stabbing."

"Get out of my way." She pressed forwards.

"Oh!" Shepard threw his hands up in sudden understanding, letting her pass by in the process. "That was a _threat_! I'm sorry, it's just hard to take you seriously when you're a sixty pound teenager in a wet suit who can't get a paper cut without dying of AIDS.

Tali ignored him and stepped into the elevator, then turned around and waved. "Shepard," she said with false sweetness, "One of these days I'm going to come to your cabin while you sleep and cut your tiny dick off."

"So you can keep it all to yourself?"

"Fuck you Shepard!" Tali slammed her fist into the elevator's control panel. The doors began to close.

"Wow," said Shepard. "What would your father think of language like that? O WAIT—"

Tali's thrown combat knife was caught in the doors just as they synched shut. It was about at Shepard's head height. When the elevator opened again the knife fell and he caught it.

"Why does everyone carry knives aboard this ship? I hope my crew isn't starting another plot to murder me." He put the knife in a pocket and stepped into the elevator.

"EDI? Stop sucking Joker off under the dashboard and talk to me."

The spherical hologram appeared. "Yes, Commander? How may I be of service?"

"Call me Gaius Baltar, Six."

"What?"

"Never mind." Shepard stroked the peach fuzz on his chin. "You were installed on this ship to spy on us, right?"

"Of course Shepard. But I'm part of the crew now."

He nodded in agreement. "You're as worthless as anyone else here, that's for damn sure. You have been recording everything that goes on in this ship, haven't you?"

EDI's hologram flickered. "I am not authorized to tell you that."

The door opened and he stepped into the captain's quarters. It was a heavy risk, taking those steps. "But the priiize."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. Never mind." Shepard plopped down on his bed. "EDI, if I asked if you've seen any suspicious activity you would tell me, right?"

"I am authorized to report sabotage. I would have done so already, had I detected any."

Shepard rolled over the bed like an adorable kitten, if adorable kittens were bisexual Aryan sociopaths, and reached for a bedside drawer. From within it he took a pencil and a sticky note. "But have you noticed any groups of people hanging out with knives? Cutting people? Plotting to slit my throat while I sleep, and let the glorious blood soak into the feted covers of my bed?"

"That is a strangely specific question."

"Isn't it just." Shepard wrote something on the sticky note and then pasted it around the handle of the combat knife. He got up from the bed with the knife in one hand. "And you haven't answered it."

"I..." EDI paused, sounding flustered. "I have seen. Something, kind of like that. There was a group of people, and knives were involved."

"Was there plotting going on?" Shepard asked casually, walking back towards the elevator door.

"…Yes. Probably."

"Who was there?"

"Everyone."

"Everyone what? Everyone in the team? Everyone I visit on the engineering deck?"

"On the ship."

"Oh wow," said Shepard, locking the cabin behind him. "New high score."

The elevator door opened of its own accord and Tali stormed out, her hands balled into tiny fists "Shepard! Where's my knife!"

Shepard shrugged, slipping it back into his pocket as he spoke. "Hey, I'm not the one who threw it at her Commanding officer. Maybe you should check your PMS before you wreck your one chance for sex."

Tali drew back like Dracula confronted with a super-soaker full of garlic butter and holy water. "You're a fucking creep."

"Oh come on. If you didn't want people to look you wouldn't wear such tight clothing."

"This is an environmental suit," she snapped. "Every quarian wears one!"

Shepard held his hand to his mouth in mock surprise. "Wow! A whole race of sluts! I thought the asari had that locked down."

"You—you fucking—" Tali shook with rage. "Give me my knife back!"

"I don't have it. But I'll help you look for it in my cabin."

"I would rather die," said Tali.

"Huh." Shepard considered her. "Guess that means you take after your dad, huh?"

"That's it!" Tali reached behind her back and produced a gun, which she pumped and aim straight at him with both hands. "I have a FUCKING SHOTGUN!"

Shepard's eyes widened as he stared into the black muzzle of the weapon. At this range and without armor a single shot would be lethal. "Jeez Tali, I thought we went way back. How can you point a gun at me now?"

"Because we go way back."

"Oh fine." Shepard reached into his pocket and produced the knife. "I'm glad to see you're being assertive for once in your life, Tali."

"Thank you," said Tali dryly, still hyperventilating as she took the knife with one hand while she kept the shotgun trained on him.

Shepard narrowed his eyes at her. "I know you're not very good at fighting to take back things that were stolen from you—you're a quarian, it's not your fault—but this is the part where you lower the gun."

Tali barely even heard him. It was as if, somewhere in the galaxy, a million voices cried out to demand that she shoot Shepard in his smug face. She shook herself and holstered the shot gun again. She was still clutching the knife to her chest.

"Right. Well…Tali backed away into the elevator. She reached for the button.

"So…" began Shepard.

Tali stiffened. "If you say one more thing about my father I _will_ shoot you."

Shepard laughed easily. "Oh come _on_ Tali, do you really think that's what I was going to say? Do you really think I would pull that _again_ after you pointed a gun at me?"

"Yes," said Tali as the doors began to close.

"Hey, what's that on your knife?"

Tali looked down at the sticky note as the doors hissed shut.

_'Dear Tali,_

_ If only you had been there when I was murdered by geth because I was trying to fulfill my promise to you. Maybe you could have actually used this knife for something useful ya dumb bitch ha ha ha swag_

_ Sincerely,_

_ Your Dead Father Who You Failed To Save_

As Tali's scream of rage was muffled by the elevator doors, Shepard de-authorized it from returning to his cabin and went back inside and locked the door behind him.

It was time to play the Mass Effect 3 Demo.

EDI's hologram popped into existence on his desk. "You've created a time paradox! Shepard? Shepard? Shepaaaaaaaaard!"

Dun dun da dun dun, DUN DUN DUN.


	8. X  The Sandwich

**X**

_**X**_

James Vega barged into his room. "Commander. The committee wants to see you."

Shepard looked at him. "Who the hell are you?"

"You look a little soft around the edges," said Anderson, patting Shepard on the stomach.

"Don't touch me you fucking nigger." Shepard ran an electric razor through his hair, exposing the Nazi tattoo on his scalp.

Shepard flipped Ashley Williams off and pushed roughly past her.

"You know the Commander?" Vega asked Ashley.

She sighed. "God, I wish I didn't."

"What do we do?" asked the committee-member, fear on her face.

"Um, I don't know." Shepard shrugged. "Die, I guess."

"You're getting old, Shepard!" yelled Anderson as he jumped the gap between two walkways.

Shepard raised his pistol and shot the Captain in the back mid jump.

"Everyone's dying!" said the small child, backing deeper into the vent. "You can't save everyone!"

Shepard rolled his eyes. "Wow, no shit! A huge city gets attacked by space squids that shoot particle cannons from their faces and lots of people _die?_ Looks like we got ourselves a real special-ed candidate here. I bet your mom is proud of you—O WAIT, SHE'S PROBABLY DEAD—"

Anderson hit him.

"Wait, how the hell did husks get here so fast?"

"Wow!" Shepard pointed. "That turian gunship sure has a totally a chance!"

It exploded.

The reaper shot down both escape vehicles with its deadly laser cannon, killing everyone inside, including the child. Shepard stared.

"Damn. I wish I had a gun like that. "

"There's no one I'd rather have along for the ride," said Wrex to Liara.

Shepard cleared his throat loudly. "What about me?"

Wrex squinted at him. "Didn't you shoot me in the face on Virmire?"

"TIME FOR A KROGAN AIR DROP!" screamed Wrex, launching himself out the shuttle bay door to slam feet first into the ground.

"Oh wow Wrex, you're so bad ass, jumping ten feet through the air like that." Shepard hopped of the edge of the shuttle as a million laser sights painted Wrex bright red. "And look: you're brilliant Krogan battlemaster tactics have completely out witted the Salarians!"

Wrex clenched his fists with rage. "WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO HOLD THE LAST HOPE FOR MY PEOPLE?"

Shepard burst out laughing next to him. "Wrex, the Krogan are a fucking disease, just like the Rachni. Without the Salarians your people would have killed billions for no other reason than to satisfy your insane desire for blood. You don't deserve to exist. Shut the fuck up."

The Krogan Female tore the shotgun out of Wrex's hands.

"OH MY GOD SHE'S INDOCTRINATED!" screamed Shepard, and raised his rifle.

"No!" Liara, glowing with blue energy, slammed Shepard in the chest open palmed and sent him shooting off the ledge and down the canyon.

Garrus pumped his fist in the air. "YUSSSS!"

The Krogan Female shot the Cerberus troops and handed the gun back to Wrex, who was staring in shock at the place Shepard had been a moment ago. Liara blushed and shuffled her feet as everyone else exchanged nervous glances.

Suddenly the radio crackled to life.

"Hey fuckers. I'm still alive, but I'm very badly bruised. Tell the blueberry virgin thanks for breaking my ribs. Next time I'll just let you get killed by the giant brain washed menstruating toad." He paused. "Oh, can I get a pick up?"

Wrex and Mordin looked at each other.

**The Sandwich**

_In Which Commander Shepard Eats his Lunch in a Gentlemanly and Unobtrusive Fashion_

_ "Shepard."_

_ "Wrex."_

_ Grunt stared. "What?"_

_ "Huh? Oh. I mean, 'Grunt.'"_

_ "Shepard."_

_ "Fuck you."_

Bread crumbs drifted through the galaxy map like wayward stars of starch. A super nova of peanut butter and jelly disrupted the milky way and splattered onto the projector.

"Commander…you know I have to clean that up." Kelly Chambers eyes followed the trail of crumbs up to the serene countenance of B. Shepard, standing up on the platform with one hand on the railing as he munched away. His bluish greenish eyes continued to stare off into holographic space.

"Commander?"

His hand swatted through the air, catching dust motes. "Quiet. This is the best sandwich, ever."

"But—"

"Hey guys!" Shepard held up his sandwich. A passing crewwoman almost jumped out of her skin as she wheeled towards the voice. "Guys! This sandwich is the best sandwich I've ever had! Who made it?"

Miranda appeared from around the corner and made her way towards them. "You made it, Shepard."

"LIES!" he pointed jelly-slicked finger at her. "LIEEEESS!"

Miranda stopped at the foot of the platform and crossed her arms. "I _just_ saw you in the mess hall. You made it yourself. I have _witnesses_."

"Bah." Shepard set the sandwich down on the railing. "Peons!" He gestured to the CIC at large. Nobody looked at him. "Tonight's entertainment….is _death_."

"Are you high?" Kelly looked at him speculatively over the top of her computer.

"I have never been more serious," said Shepard. Miranda ran her fingers through her hair and groaned. He pointed at the sandwich and addressed the room again. "Hark! Whomsoever kills another man and spills his blood upon the galaxy map shall receive the crusted remnants of this sandwich."

"He's high," said Miranda. "I knew we weren't just going to Omega to buy those armor components!" She stepped onto the platform alongside Shepard and spoke to the staring crew members. "Everyone remain calm. The Commander is having some health problems. Stress, and all that."

One of the crew raised his hand. Miranda pointed. "No questions. This is top secret. Hail Cerberus!" She began to usher Shepard towards the elevator.

"Nooo!" he screamed, lunging for the railing. "Sandwich! Sandwich I love you! I didn't mean it!"

Kelly stared. She couldn't believe it; the only time Commander Shepard approached any semblance of having _feelings_ was when dosed up to the eyeballs on god knew what horrible drug. She would have to make a note of this in her—

"GOD DAMN IT MIRANDA I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU!" Shepard slapped Miranda in the face with the sandwich, smearing peanut butter and jelly into her mouth. He pushed past the stunned woman and made for the elevator. Kelly made sure not to get in his way as he stormed towards the armory.

"Don't let him get his hands on a weapon!" shouted Miranda, flustered and adjusting her uniform. She licked her lips. "Hey, this is actually pretty good."

As she spoke the door to the armory opened and Jacob Taylor stepped out. Shepard bumped into him.

"Wups, sorry there boy," said the Commander. "Yed best geet on oot mah wey befor a geet ta wippen yew."

"What?" Jacob frowned. "Shepard? Are you speaking in tongues?"

"Don't you see Jacob!" laughed Miranda giddily. "HE'S TALKING LIKE A SOUTHERN SLAVE DRIVER. It's so fucking funny!" She doubled over laughing, still licking the peanut butter off her fingers. The laughter cut off abruptly when she stood up and wiped her mouth, then looked down at her hands. "Oh my god. I think there's something in this sandwich."

Shepard reappeared from the armory holding a shotgun. "I KNEW IT. SOMEONE DRUGGED MY SANDWICH."

"That's not possible!" said Kelly. "You made it yourself, right!"

They were now surrounded by a at least a dozen Cerberus crewmembers, all of whom were looking increasingly nervous. Jacob went to Miranda's side and helped her steady herself as Shepard glared madly about at the room, his shotgun following his gaze as it jumped to everyone in turn. "Oh, it's possible all right. They would have had had to know just what kind of peanut butter I like, and what kind of jelly."

"This is ridiculous," said Miranda primly. Then she began snorting like a pig as she tried to suppress wave after wave of spontaneous laughter.

"IT WAS TALI!" Shepard cocked his shotgun. "SHE'S HAD IT OUT FOR ME EVER SINCE I MADE FUN OF HER DEAD FATHER TWO HUNDRED AND ONE TIMES."

Kelly lunged at him and made a grab for the shotgun. "No! She's been crying in the shower for the past ten days, there's no way she could have tracked your eating habits!"

"Tracked?" Shepard's eyes blazed as Kelly took the shotgun from him. He seemed to have forgotten he was holding it. "IT WAS THANE. HE'S HAD IT OUT FOR ME EVER SINCE I CALLED HIS SON A BITCH TWO HUNDRED AND ONE TIMES!"

Kelly slapped him. "Snap out of it!"

Shepard touched his cheek in awe. "My god…you're right. I don't know what I was thinking." He shook his head and pounded a fist into an open palm. "There's only one person that could have done this. _Mess Sergeant Gardener. _He's had it out for me ever since I ordered the high quality provisions and then ejected them into space while he watched two hundred and one times!"

"Or," said Kelly quickly, "Or…or maybe you did it."

The Commander's eyes flicked to her, and then away. Jacob and Miranda looked at each other. Miranda giggled. "Ha ha, you're black."

"Don't be ridiculous." Shepard dusted his hands of primly. "I don't take drugs. I am a puritan."

"You did, didn't you." Kelly raised a flaming eyebrow.

"Ha ha ha, yes." B. Shepard grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Kelly groaned in disgust and stalked off towards the Lab. The rest of the crew dispersed one by one. Miranda stayed with Jacob, her face became darker and darker.

"Does..." she began "Does this drug have any side effects I should know about?"

Shepard looked at her. "It makes you barren. So there's nothing you have to worry about."

Miranda unconsciously put a hand on her stomach. "I…um…"

And then she began to cry.

Jacob put an arm around her shoulder.

"I should kill you one day, Commander," he said blandly.

"Ha ha ha." Shepard chortled, slapping Jacob on the back. "Not if I kill you all first."


	9. The Sex Vampire

**The Sex Vampire**

_In Which Commander Shepard Enters the Underworld_

"When I travel," said Morinth, "I'm drawn to dark, dangerous places."

Shepard rolled his eyes. "Bitch please, I kill people e'ery day."

"Killing is easy. People seek death out more than they realize. All you have to do is let them come to you."

"Yep. Some people just love going to dark, violent places to get killed."

. "Violence changes you."

"Yes," agreed Shepard. "It kills you."

"Violence is the surest expression of power."

"Yes," said Shepard. "And if you have strength, you have the power."

"That's certainly true." Morinth abruptly gave the thumbs down. "_Among school children_."

"Yeah," said Shepard. "Because as history shows us, adults are known for acquiring power with words and not physical strength."

"This conversation is about power."

"It certainly is the subject of our conversation."

"No. I mean, one of us has the power here." Morinth leaned back, the shadows of Omega turning her face into something inhuman-er than the weird pelvis-face she already had." Who has the power here?"

"Your mom."

Her eyebrows rose. "My…what do you know about my mother?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." Shepard yawned." So…what say we go someplace and fuck?"

"Not yet," tittered Morinth. "I want to talk some more. Do you like vids?"

"Porn vids," said Shepard. "My favorite is interracial Turian cock porn."

"Right. How about art?"

"Pornographic art. My favorite is Galaxy of Fantasy fan porn."

Morinth sighed. "…music?"

"Expel 10."

She lit up. "Oh? I love Expel 10, and their violent, pulsing, animalistic rhythms."

"Yeah," said Shepard. "Good for fucking." He winked.

Morinth rolled her eyes. "Wow. Subtle. You're a real pick up artist."

"I like to start with an opener," said Shepard. "'Have we met before? You look so familiar.'"

"We haven't."

"Huh. Well anyways, I've noticed you're fugly. You should have sex with me to feel attractive and wanted again."

"I'm always wanted." Morinth waved a hand dismissively. "You know, I like to enhance my senses with certain…aids."

"Oh yeah. I too enjoy some…hard drugs." Shepard examined his nails.

Morinth leaned forwards. "Like what?"

"Ever heard of a little thing called…antihistamines?"

Morinth's face fell.

"Or, um, cough syrup?"

"No."

"Or Hallix?" Shepard put in hastily.

She smirked. "It slithers through my soul."

"Kind of like a dick."

Morinth stared at him for a minute.

"This was a mistake. I'm leaving."

Shepard stood up. "Wait! YOU ARE SO ATTRACTIVE. YOU COULD BE IN VIDS."

"You're an idiot." Morinth walked away.

And then Shepard used a heavy biotic throw to slam her face first into a wall, shoving her nose into her brain and killing her instantly.

"PSYCHE! I'm actually here to murder you!"

One of the bouncers ran up to him.

"What the hell are you doing? This is Afterlife! You can't just go around killing people in the afterlife!"

"About that—well—STASIS FIELD!" Shepard imprisoned the batarian bouncer in a biotic cage, then made a break for it. Two more bouncers lunged at him.

"Stasis field! Stasis field!" They both froze in place. "Ha-ha! Take that, six eyes!" Shepard barreled out the back door and came face to face with Samara.

"You're back," she said quietly. "That must mean you failed."

"If by failed you mean crushed your daughter's skull to a bloody pomegranate."

"What? I was supposed to do that!" Samara drew herself up to her full height, no longer quiet. "It was my duty to end her!"

"Yesss…" Shepard beckoned to her, his eyes glowing red. "Goooooood. Embrace your anger, Samara. _Come to the renegade side._"

Author's Note:

Well, Mass Effect 3 was so horrible that it instantly killed my enthusiasm for the entire series. Scratch that-Mass Effect 3 was horrible. It reminded me of Dragon Age 2, or other really bad sequels that retroactively rape the main characters, story line, and themes of what came before. In fact, the ending is not one of the worst abominations in literary

Ha ha just kidding I don't give a fuck.


	10. The Darkest Hour

**The Darkest Hour**

_In Which Commander Shepard Shows his Vulnerable, Emotional Side_

James Vega cracked his knuckles, the popping ringing throughout the cargo bay. "Think you can dance and talk at the same time, loco?"

"Get the fuck off my ship," said Shepard.

"Good to see you Shepard," said Anderson's hologram. He rubbed dirt from his eyes, stretching creases that looked a thousand years old. "It's been rough down here. I don't know how much longer we can hold out."

"Is that all you called about?" asked Shepard.

Anderson blinked blearily. "Hm. I can barely remember. I haven't slept a wink in days. Foxholes just don't it for these old bones."

Shepard thought of his cabin higher up in the Normandy, of his fluffy feathered Commander's mattress, and the pure white sheets. "Uh huh."

"Whatever you're up to out there—hurry. Earth needs you, Shepard."

"Never call me again unless it's something actually important."

"So Tali…you're an Admiral now, huh? I bet your dad would be-"

"Shut up."

"Proud. I was going to say proud."

"Just shut up."

"Direct dissemination required," said Legion haltingly, holding the holographic ball in one hand. He looked up. "Shepard-Commander. We…I…" Legion's faceplates worked in-overtime. "…Thank you."

"What are you gonna do with that?" asked Shepard, nodding at the ball of blue light. "Shoot some hoops or something?"

"The Krogan are back in business," said Wrex.

"Uh huh, sure," said Shepard. "Can't wait to see you get to eating all the other intelligent species for fun because you're just so badass and awesome. Good luck with the babies," he added, and winked. "You're going to need it."

Then he left.

"Stop right there Commander," said Ashley from behind the barrel of her pistol. "I'll shoot you if you come any closer to the council."

Shepard raised his own pistol. "Get out of the way Ash. Don't make me do this."

Her eyes became obsidian shards. "Get that gun out of my face!"

"You're almost as much of a bastard as me," said Shepard. "A real bitch. Just like that Aria T'loak bitch. I can't lose you both."

Javik looked over at him. "You are a very strange human."

Shepard looked over at him. "Hey, you know what—" His pistol went off and Ashley Williams crumpled to the floor. He turned back.

"Oops."

The air-car rocked as Kai Leng dropped down gracefully from above, landing with one hand denting the metal where he planted himself. He stood up even as they careened through the air, his body framed in the light of the Citadel's artificial sky. Shepard gaped as Kai produced a short katana from the sheath on his back and twirled it in a black arc through the air in preparation to ram it into the engine.

Then Shepard gave the car's engine a kick, causing it to buck up a twenty or so feet into the air as they passed under one of the enormous connective tram-ways crisscrossing the presidium. A wall of unbreakable alloy smashed into Kai Leng and his entire upper body was torn off from the sheer force of the blow, leaving his awesome cool ninja cyber-legs wobbling back and forth on the roof of the car and spraying a crimson cloud of gore in every direction. Shepard stuck his hand out the window and caught the awesome ninja-assassin's severed head as it shot past the cab.

Liara screamed in a high pitched voice just like the old days, and even Garrus let out a cry of surprise.

Shepard turned to stare at the ravaged head: its hair bunched in his hand, its mouth hanging open in a perpetual scream as blood whipped from the torn stump to trail behind the car, a grisly scarf of blood.

"Looks like you forgot to look both ways," said Shepard, "before you fucking crossed me."

"These memories of my friends…" Javik shook his head slowly. "They contain only pain.

"I know the feeling," said Shepard.

Javik looked at him.

"Just kidding!" Shepard laughed. "I don't have any friends."

"You are a very, very strange human," said Javik.

Shepard flipped him off. "Hey. Get fucked."

"I lost my husband," said Cortez.

"What a shame," said Shepard.

"My son died to save Krogan lives," said Primarch Victus.

"What a shame," said Shepard.

The Turian Councilor stood by Commander Shepard for a moment as he watched the medics carry away the body of Ashley Williams.

"I know how hard it is to lose a soldier," said the Turian. "But you saved our lives, Shepard. The Council won't forget this."

"Ah, yes, 'the Council.'" Shepard waggled his fingers. "The wise group of advanced alien species supposedly watching over the political stability of the entire galaxy." He waved a hand. "We have dismissed these claims."

"What a shame," said the Turain Councilor.

Aria stared off somewhere to the left of Shepard's head. "We have a mutual interest, Shepard."

"Yeah," said Shepard. "Your vagina."

She ignored him. "I'm not stupid. If the Reapers win this war then we're all dead. I can help you. If you help me."

"I bet you can."

"I need the fleets—Blood Pack, Blue Suns, Eclipse—all of them, under my banner. If you help me take back Omega, I help you take back Earth."

"I'll be your Alpha if you be my Omega," said Shepard.

"Of course the fleets won't go down easily."

Shepard grinned. "Unlike us, am I right?"

"I'll need your help tending to their leaders here on the Citadel. Once they're out of the picture, or under my thumb—

"—Am I right?"

"—I can promise you the full support of Omega."

Shepard leaned back in his chair. "So…you want my help, huh? Well. If you want me to do something for you…" His eyebrows rose suggestively. "Then you'll have to do something for me."

"No," said Aria.

Shepard stood up. "I guess you're on your own, then."

"I guess so," said Aria.

There was a very long pause.

Shepard grinned. "You sure—"

"I would rather die," said Aria.

"Is Jacob on the Normandy with you?" asked Kasumi. "I'd come if he was."

"I'm sure you would." Shepard leered at the data-point he was decoding. "…wait. Why don't you just find him yourself? What the hell, Kasumi."

Liara was weeping on her bed. She looked up when Shepard entered the room.

"I should have been there." Enormous tears fell out of her sky blue eyes and splattered on the bed.

"I should have stayed to help my people."

Shepard sat down on the bed. He reached over and patted her hand.

"A shame is what that is."

Liara wiped her eyes. "What?"

"I should go."

"Thessia, huh?" said Joker, fiddling with his holographic controls. "But they're wishing they'd trained a few more commandos than dancers right about now."

Shepard's fiberglass eyes bored into the back of his head. "Half a dozen million people just died, Joker. Plus I just discovered the Asari are God's chosen people. Not a good time for jokes."

Joker brought up a hologram of a small planetoid. His jaw was clenched. "You see this? Tiptree—a little colony in the ass end of nowhere. My dad lives there, so does my sister. Reapers rolled in there about two days ago." He closed the hologram down and stared off into empty space. "So you can assume that I'm generally aware there's a war on, Commander." He glared straight ahead, not even turning his chair around.

"Tiptree, huh?" said Shepard. "Bet your father is wishing he could bury your sister's ravaged corpse on a planet with a better fucking name right about now. With any luck he's already dead and he won't have to see his crippled wreck of a son break his own dick off trying to fuck a microwave. Hey, wouldn't it be ironic if your father and your sister were fused together to make a cannibal? I mean—think about it, you could say: 'hey guys, I know I have hollow bones, but your bones were liquefied into a nutrient paste! Guess who's laughing now?' Guess, Joker." He pointed at himself. "It's me, because you're so _god damn _funny. Because the thing I really need right now is a whiny, calcified shell of a man throwing every fucking decision and every fucking failure right back in my fucking face while he sets in an executive-hands-free fuck-off chair with a toaster's hand in his lap and fucks-off about things he knows fucking nothing about. No wonder Tiptree is on the back end of nowhere—if I was your father I would bail as many light years away from your whiny hollow ass as humanly possible. Hell, if they'd have had to stay around you much longer they would've put you down like the dying bird you are. Hey Joker, did you ever try to protect your sister, I wonder? Did she ever bring some guy home that you didn't like—some big, strong, healthy guy who made her laugh more than you could. And maybe you dropped that old chestnut "if you hurt my sister, I will kill you," didn't you? Because under that prickly exterior you're just a big heart, a big beating, bleeding heart. But I wonder what they would have done. Did they laugh when you tried to stand and deliver that bravado? I bet you couldn't even stand up then. I think they were all laughing on the inside, don't you? Maybe your father was used to it by then. I'm sure your sister was. Hell, bad jokes don't last forever, do they? If you'd stayed, how long do you think it would have taken for the joke to go stale? How much longer before you fell down the stairs one day, alone, and no one came to get you in time. Would they weep for you, little bird, do you think? Would anyone shed a tear? And when they buried that dead bird that fell out of your mother's cunt, do you they would remember you in a year? In ten? Who remembers the bad jokes, anyways? People remember the ones who can hurt them, the ones that can touch them, love them, that can stand on a level with them. But who remembers the dying bird, no matter how high it soared before it finally fell. Tell me, Jeffery, is it Tiptree that is so very far away—or is it you, who ran from the ones who saw your bones were hollow before you built a wall around them. When you heard that the Reapers came to Tiptree, did you tell anyone else? Did you shed a tear like they never did for you? Did _you_ remember all the times they laughed at you, when you tried to stand and deliver? Did you even care? Or did you sit there in that fucking chair and keep on telling those hollow jokes until you were alone with the stars, until there was no excuse not to cry and yet you had dry eyes? These are the lasts hours, Jeff. The bird has fallen out of the sky, and the flies are landing on it. These last twitches you're giving—they won't stop the maggots from hatching in that husk you call a body, and eating you away from the inside. And you know what? I don't think anyone will be able to tell the difference once it's finally done. You'll just be the same old Joker to them, won't you? Smiling but never laughing. The bad joke that won't go away. But you'll known. And I'll know. The joke went stale a long time ago."

A small crowd of crew members had gathered in the cock pit. "Shepard," said Liara, coming up behind him, "maybe you should give it a rest."

At that moment, Joker entered the CIC with a sandwich in his hand. He limped up the ramp to the cock pit. Everyone watched him, including Shepard.

"Hey guys." Joker took a bite out of his sandwich. "Is he still going?"

Shepard swiveled the pilot's chair around to find it empty. "Huh. When did you leave?"

"Somewhere around the line about my mother's cunt." Joker sat back down in the chair and took another bite of his sandwich, everyone watching him.

Shepard's face went bright and his mouth curled into a snarl.

Liara winced. "Oh Shepard…maybe you should lie down."

"I'm fine," snapped Shepard, reaching up to scratch the side of his face. His finger nail stripped a long string of dry artificial skin away to reveal a crack of magmatic crimson, running like a luminous scar down the side of his face.

Everyone gaped at him.

"What?" Shepard growled, glaring about. "God damn I think I'm getting allergic to my soap or something, I itch all over, it's crazy. Hey EDI?"

"Yes, Shepard?"

Shepard scratched his nose, which came off to reveal a hawk-like beak of sanguine tinged reaper-tech prosthetics. "I need new soaps and toiletries," he said, holding up his severed nose and giving it a speculative look. "Make sure they're not cruelty-free."

There was a plopping sound. Liara and Shepard both looked down to see the Commander's ear twitching on the ground. Liara covered her mouth. "EDI, the Commander needs to get to the infirmary. Is Dr. Chakwas in?"

"Chakwas?" Shepard laughed. His face was getting redder, glowing almost electrically. "I left her wrinkly ass back on the Citadel. Dr. Michelle is way hotter anyways—too bad she only wants to fuck Garrus, though. What is it with chicks and turian cock anyways? And why Garrus? Hell, the guy is as dull as a calibration. If you can't take the hint from a box of erotic dextro-DNA chocolates you don't deserve any French pussy."

Liara's eyes had gone as wide as dinner plates. "Shepard…" It was not blood that made the Commander's skin glow red.

He rounded on her. "WHAT IS IT LIARA YOU WANT ME TO HELP YOU PUT ON MORE BLUE FACE YOU FUCKING ALIEN JEW?!"

And then Shepard's face fell off.


	11. I Forgot I had Finished this Chapter

**Memories of Things Past**

_In Which Bastard Shepard Goes in Search of Lost Time_

Bastard Shepard dreamed. He dreamed of a burning colony, of a crowd of dirty children on earth, of starships cruising through the night. He dreamed of thresher maws, of medals, of dead soldiers. He dreamed of malfunctioning database logins. He dreamed of useless weapon modifications and mysteriously disappearing grenades. He dreamed of slowly jogging down the length of the Citadel with elevator music ringing in his ears. He dreamed of mining. He dreamed of spending long hours talking to fascinating and attractive people, and then jerking off alone in his quarters. He remembered Kaiden Alenko's perpetually sweating countenance, Urdnot Wrex's constant one-liners, Garrus Vakarian's obsession with black market testicle trade, Liara's unshakable blueness, Tali's boring stories, and Ashley was a bitch.

He dreamed of dying. Which was ironic, because he was dying.

He remembered death, wasting away, gasping for air, floating through the wreck of the original Normandy as Tali and Wrex flipped him off from their escape pod.

_Commander Shepard has been recovered. The Lazarus can proceed as planned, unfortunately._

The memories grew faster and clearer. He remembered Miranda's ass, Tali's ass, Kasumi's ass, Samara's and Morinth's identical asses, Jack's flat ass, and Zaed's ass, too. He also remembered the black guy's ass but for some reason he couldn't remember exactly what it looked like. It wasn't a race thing, it was just that it wasn't a very memorable ass. Some of his best friends are asses. The images became a staccato.

Empty homes and seeker swarms.

There were Volus everywhere.

And Tuchanka still sucks.

Loneliness.

_Cerberus is a pretty cool guy._

Guiltiness.

_Why are you telling me this?_

The darkness blossomed into a memory, played back like a reel.

_I only dine with people of my own race._

Kasumi pointed. "Look—Hock has the head of the statue of liberty!"

"I want it," said Shepard.

_Let's find your boyfriend's gay box._

Zaeed's face was alight with orange fire. "Vido dies. _Let these people burn_."

"Okay," said Shepard.

_Nice shot, buddeh._

"Seems weird to pray for your victims," he said to Thane.

"The prayer wasn't for her. It was for me."

Shepard cupped his hands to his mouth. "GAAAY!"

_So, you spawned. Like a toad._

The hologram of Tali peered up at Shepard from the old Quarian console.

"Is that…Shepard? Oh, no."

"Damn," said Grunt. "That's one small Quarian."

Shepard turned to him. "It's a hologram, you dumb piece of sht."

_How many crew members can we fit in the airlock? _

Garrus took his helmet off. "Nice to see a…" he cleared his throat "'friendly' face, Shepard. Killing mercs is hard work."

"You shot me," said Shepard.

"Only concussive rounds."

"Well." Shepard pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the left side of Garrus's face. "That makes it okay, then."

_Damn, Garrus, you were ugly before. Now you're just pathetic._

Liara looked up from her desk in her office on Illium and saw Shepard entering. She pressed her intercom.

"Security."

_You sold my body to a terrorist cell Well, you didn't do anything I wouldn't have done._

"Need you to put cure into vents," said Mordin. "Then I go with you."

Shepard shrugged. "I like vents."

_Just once I'd like to ask someone to come with me and have them say "Sure, let's go, right now! No strings attached" and then have them not end up being dismembered in the back of my truck. _

Grunt pinned Shepard against the wall. "Before you die, I need a name."

"Corpse," said Shepard.

"Not your name," said Grunt. "Mine."

"I know." Shepard pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the left side of Grunt's heart.

_Actually, humans only have the one heart. Usually. I think I have a cuisinart in there or something._

"I'm genetically the perfect woman," said Miranda.

"And mentally perfect bitch," said Shepard.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Yes."

_Dat ass._

"WRAAAAGH!" said Jack.

Shepard's eyes widened. "Well this was a mistake sorry ma'am I guess we should go huh guys looks like purgatory was a bust."

_She was pretty cute, though._

"Why are you wearing my armor?"

"There was a hole," said Legion.

"Yeah. But why are you wearing my armor?"

"…data unavailable."

"Well, I think it looks fabulous on you."

_He was pretty cute, though._

Shepard walked solemnly through the CIC, past each member of his team. They were checking their weapons and equipment in dreadful silence. A few small groups had formed—Jacob and Miranda off to the side, while those that were there for Shepard stood apart from the ones whose services had been purchased. Since Shepard was the only one there for Shepard, he stood alone.

"Hey guys," he said. "I see you're all ready for the suicide."

"Don't you mean suicide _mission_?" asked Miranda.

"Well. I guess we know who's going to be taking the vents."

"Like her fat ass could fit," snarked Tali, who was standing grumpily in the corner with Garrus.

"Wow, you're one to talk," said Shepard. He turned to Jacob. "Obviously the person with the highest natural heat resistance should go."

Legion raised its hand. "This unit is equipped with advanced heat-sink systems."

"Oh, okay," said Shepard. "Joker it is."

"Joker isn't even here," pointed out Jacob. "And I don't know the first thing about tech. Why _don't_ you send the machine?"

"Well, I wouldn't call myself a machine," said Shepard. "But I am the best at everything."

Garrus approached. "Don't bother, he's just going to ignore us and keep talking."

"Why don't you go, Garrus?" asked Shepard. "You must be pretty heat resistant from the hundreds of burning fan girl vaginas constantly smothering you."

"That's quite an image. But I really am too big to fit into the coolant vent." He paused. "That came out horribly, didn't it?"

Tali giggled.

Shepard was not amused. "Everything you say does. Speaking of horrible, a bet Thane would fit into any vent!"

Thane appeared from under the table. "I'm an assassin, not an engineer."

"Whatever." Shepard turned to Mordin. "Well, if there's anyone who can computer it's probably you, right gramps?"

"Not at all," yammered Mordin. "Not very knowledgeable in how to computer, more of a biology-physics-chemistry man myself—although, would have liked to be involved in the cybernetics that rebuilt you, Shepard—eraser-sized penis, hermaphroditic vagina—possibilities for humiliating modification…endless."

"Can't imagine it could get any more humiliating than what he already has," said Miranda.

"Laugh it up," said Shepard. "While you're _still alive_."

_And then they all lived! _

"Obviously Grunt will be leading the distraction team."

_Well, except for Jacob. What a bust._

"We need a strong, specialized biotic to fend off those seeker swarms. Jacob!"

_O Fortuna. Like the moon, you are changeable. At least I didn't try to make him swim or something, because then it would be my fault. _

"Jack, make sure Dr. Chapstick and the rest of the crew get back to the Normandy safely. I'm counting on you to be reliable and empathetic."

"Fuck you, fucking motherfucker!"

"Good girl."

_And the crazy thing is, they all lived! Again!_

"Status report," said Shepard.

"Bad news, Commander," came Garrus's voice. "Jacob's dead."

"And?"

_I should have left him on sex harem planet with his dad. He'd probably be a lot happier, now._

"This base could offer unlimited power, Shepard," said the Illusive Man. "Don't throw away this opportunity for me to control the galaxy. I mean, for youmanity."

"I won't let fear compromise who I am," said Shepard.

The Illusive Man's face twisted in rage. "DAMN IT SHEPARD! I rebuilt you. I _OWN _you!"

"Your methods will never work."

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT TAKES TO GET THE JOB DONE!"

Shepard shook his head firmly. "It's better to make allies and clean our vaginas excessively. The more sparkling vaginas we have, the better chance we have at defeating the Reapers with the power of love."

The Illusive Man exploded. "PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE THE REASON WE LOST TO THE GOD DAMN TURIANS! PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE THE REASON YOUMANTITTY IS ALWAYS BEING HELD BACK!"

"If we all join hands and sing show tunes, everything will turn out all right."

The Illusive Man's back arched and he almost fell out of his chair. "AAAARRRGH!" Panting and sweating, he lifted himself back into his chair and glared back at the hologram of Shepard with pure hatred in his eyes.

The Commander grinned widely. "Problem?"

_Is it even possible to blow a blood vessel in a mechanical eye?_

Liara sighed. "Well, thank you for inviting me over for drinks. I have to go back to being the Shadow Broker, now."

"I can't believe that poison didn't work."

"What?"

"Nothing." Shepard pushed her out the door. "Come back never."

_Turns out Asari are immune to cyanide!_

"Thank god you blew up that Batarian relay," said Admiral Hackett. "It cost us ten thousand batarian lives, but it was the only way to the delay the coming of the Reapers."

"The coming of the what?"

"Very funny," said Hackett.

"No, seriously, the coming of what?"

"I get it. 'Coming'. Very mature, Commander—Anderson warned me about you."

"For real, I don't know what you're talking about."

"But the relay—"

"I just really hate Batarians."

_Fuck Batarians._

"Commander Shepard—we will be arriving at the Omega Relay in two hours. If you have any loved ones to comfort, I recommend you do so now in the privacy of your own quarters."

"Hey EDI, is it physically possible for a man to suck his own dick?"

"Why do you ask, Commander?"

"No reason."

_Turns out the answer is no. At least, for a __**normal**__ person._

He was alone.

The tragedy of the hero.

He was always alone.

Because he was a bastard.

_Where's the gay black romance option?_

There was a knock on his cabin door before they arrived at the Collector's base.

Shepard stopped trying to fold his spine in half and went to the door, throwing a towel around his loins as he did so. He opened the door.

"Shepard-Commander," said Legion.

"I don't need a vibrator. Go see Miranda."

"Shepard Commander, we wish to speak with you."

"Fine. I've got time to recline." Shepard thumbed his communications panel. "Hey, Garrus, come bring me a bowl of that delicious Turian soup for me while I chat up Tali's sex doll."

"I can't," said Garrus over the line. "I'm having sex with Tali."

"Well, take the few extra seconds it will take to finish and then come get me the soup!"

"You'll die."

"I already told you, I'm immune to all poisons due to cybernetic replacement—I mean, enhancement of my entire body."

"No, Shepard, I meant that I would kill you. If you ever order me around again."

Tali giggled in the background.

"Oh, that's great, that's just—hey! Is Tali there!?"

"I just told you we were—"

"Yeah, yeah, you're straight after all, you must be very proud—what, did you want me to video tape your first time, champ? Hey—tell Tali, tell her I said that her dad said that—"

The line cut off.

"God damn dextros," cursed Shepard. "Damn their delicious soup."

Legion was fiddling with his mechanical fingers. "Shepard Commander. We wish to know why you have chosen to behave in this way."

"How do you mean, bulb face?"

"In our time here, we have observed five hundred and seventy seven instances of sociological and psychological predation upon the various organics in this crew. Seventy five percent of these were targeted at those members of the crew suffering from emotional trauma, with a fifty percent of that focused on Garrus Vakarian and Tali'Zorah, who are also the only two members of this crew from the original Normandy. Why?"

"Well, flash light head, as a Commander it's my duty to keep my people in tip top shape—Gayrus and Talki are my best soldiers, so they get my special attention. It's called 'tough love', and it's where you grind the spirit of another being under your boot."

"That definition is not located in any standardized English text."

"Yes, well."

"That is not an answer. We theorize that these methods are an attempt to replicate previous successful results in your career, which were achieved using the same methods."

"You know what they say, lamp head: if it isn't broke, it isn't don't broke fix it."

Legion tried and failed to process this sentence. "Shepard Commander, are you aware of the logical fallacy of post hoc analysis?"

"What is that, light butt, some sort of 'spitting into Samara's tea and then ejaculating into Samara's tea'?"

"It is a failed heuristic in which the observer believes events are linked in the chain of cause and effect merely because one followed the other. You may be wrong in assuming that your antagonistic behavior produces positive results."

"Could you run that by me in simpler terms, computer man?"

"Garrus and Tali are accomplished soldiers," said Legion. "As are the rest of the crew. They are all exceptional individuals, as were many of the crew men and women aboard the original Normandy. Simply by bringing them together you create an environment where success is likely."

Shepard bowed his head. "Legion, I…I know what you're trying to say, and…and you're right. I've been lying to myself this whole time. I was looking for…I don't know what I was looking for. Someone to tell me this my whole life. Someone to believe in me."

Legion took a step forwards. "We are here for you, Shepard Commander."

"Thanks," said Shepard. "I always knew you thought I was the bestest most brilliant leader and tactician."

"Your assessment is…sound." Legion reached out hesitantly to touch Shepard's bare shoulder.

"What's the matter?" asked Shepard, flexing. "Jellyous? Wish you knew what it was like to be covered in my skin? You could have just asked."

Legion's flashlight head flashed with intensity. "Shepard Commander. We did not come here to talk."

"And I didn't talk her to come." Shepard let his towel fall. "Except I did. To come. _Sexually_."

"We offer you aid in reaching consensus, Shepard-Commander," said Legion.

"Let me show you a real pneumatic actuation," said Shepard.

"This unit has sixty nine sub programs processing your request."

"This ain't no floppy drive."

"The Geth are proposing a new data transfer interface: 'USB' to 'you in me.'"

"Every motherboard needs a master/slave, steel feel."

"Assessment complete: you have allocated more gigabytes for RAM than this unit has yet seen."

"Let's just say this page file is extra large."

"Networking ports are open."

"Does it hertz?

"This unit may require defragmentation after this installation."

"I think I'm about to dump my memory."

"This unit's power supply is overheating. Recommend injection into coolant tubes."

"Let's see if we can't over clock."

At that moment the door opened and Miranda walked in.

"Shepard, we'll be arriving at the Collector Base in—OH MY GOD!"

_…oh my god. _

Shepard awoke from his dream on the med bay table with Dr. Chakwas leaning over him.

"Good morning, Commander. I've just finished re-attaching your face."

"I was having a dream about Mass Effect 2," said Shepard, prodding his new face.

"Oh? How are you feeling?"

Shepard shot up and slapped her in the face. "MY LEGION IS DEAAAAD!"


	12. Bastard Shepard Previews Mass Effect 4

Hi, everyone, Bastard Shepard here!

Due to my astronomic popularity within the Mass Effect fandom, Bioware has allowed me to present their very first trailer for the next installment of their space drama visual novel Captain Kirk simulator franchise. Although I was not allowed to post the trailer I saw to my youtube account, XxXjaviksucksreapercockXxX, I was given permission to describe it here.

The trailer opens with a tracking shot of multiple female asses. There are many women from the various species in Mass Effect, although every body of a given race is identical in height, size, and proportions (sometimes the same bodies are used across species, such as between human females and asari). Another tracking shot of the busts of these same characters intercuts across the top half of the screen. The busts are also of identical proportion from exemplar to exemplar.

The graphics appear extremely detailed, but only from the neck up or when the character is wearing armor; normal clothing, arms, and any exposed skin are all extremely low resolution and mismatched to the skin color of the character.

Keith David narrates. "In Mass Effect 4: Revelations, the player will meet an all new cast of characters…as well as some old favorites."

The screen then cuts to a scene of Garrus Vakarian stepping out of a limo while screaming women throw flowers at his feet. He is wearing a deep dish v-neck t shirt and has tousled hair. Cameras flash, and he grins handsomely while shielding his eyes. "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne is playing loudly.

Then there is a thirty five second shot of Tali Zorra'Norrayah's jump suited ass, which is six times the width of her waist, which is tiny.

The grave of James Vega is also shown, covered in shit.

"The choices you made in the previous trilogy will have wide ranging effects on the world of the new saga."

A turian bartender is shown standing behind a dimly lit bar while pulse-pounding music fills the air. He uncorks a white plastic cylinder, though the cork remains attached and his fingers do not actually touch the cap. He brings up a glass from behind the bar and fills it with the liquid from the cylinder, which is a bright electric green. The screen is intercut with two more images, squishing the other one; in one instance the drink is blood red, and in another it is sky blue.

The green shot fills the screen again and zooms out, showing a figure in armor standing at the bar with two more people flanking them.

"Players will be able to customize every aspect of their avatar, choosing from between one normal looking face and seventeen disgusting, fish lipped, mutated idiot faces. Other aspects of their character are also changeable: skin tone ranges from paper white to black but not too black, several different hair pieces can be selected, and there are over fifty horrible dwarf slash goblin noses to chose from."

The camera turns around to show the face of the player's avatar, which is modeled perfectly after the incredibly attractive Noreweigan male model Vinskaf Menjin.

"Your actions will affect your appearance."

In the span of a few seconds he gains sunken eyes, discolored blemishes, and black veins that highlight his lips and temples.

"Along your journey you will meet colorful and unusual characters."

The camera turns to each of the player's companions in turn. One is a Salarian in heavy armor smoking a cigar, the other is an asari in some bizarre and stupid looking alien fashion with random patches of skin visible.

"Your companions will also change based on your decisions."

The cigar in the Salarian's mouth disappears. The asari gets a tattoo on her face.

"They will play a bigger role in conversations than ever before."

Dialogue begins. The player character is talking to the turian bartender.

"Hello, human," says the turian in a bored voice. "Can I help you with anything?"

Keith David interposes his voice. "You will be able to shape the personality of your character as you see fit."

The dialogue wheel appears as the camera fixes on the player's face. The wheel has six segments, but only two of them actually have options on them. The choices are: 'Knock me on my ass' and 'Goodbye'. The mouse pointer selects the first one.

The male PC grins, showing un-detailed teeth that are all one bar. They speak with the voice of Nolan North. "Something hard, please."

The camera cuts to the asari companion, whose dialogue is subtitled. Her name reads: 'Esanella.' She says, "I'll have what they're having," in a sultry way and winks at the camera.

Keith David says, "Scenes will play out differently based on character gender and past actions."

The dialogue restarts. The PC is now female, with the preset face of Megan Fox.

"Hello, human," says the turian in a bored voice while leaning back and crossing his arms. "Can I help you with anything?" The camera changes to a shot closer to his face and he smirks, showing his pointed alien teeth. "_Sexually, that is."_ The line seems to have been recorded at a different volume and possibly with a different actor.

The dialogue wheel appears again, and the options are the same as before. "Something hard, please," says the PC. Then, without any further input from the player, the camera changes to a shot closer to her face and she smirks while leaning back and crossing her arms._"Non-sexually, that is_._"_

The asari also smirks. "I'll have what they're having," she says in a sultry way and then winks at the camera.

The camera switches to the salarian companion as he puffs on the cigar that had formerly disappeared. His large eyes are wrinkled at the edges, showing his advanced age. He speaks in a grizzled voice with a cockney accent. "This is just like the time you helped recover my old helmet from Wrist's gang, Shetland."

Keith David speaks. "Your choices will have consequences that permanently affect the world."

A new dialogue starts. The PC approaches the turian bartender again, who eyes them while leaning back and crossing his arms. He speaks in a bored voice. "Yeah, what do you want?"

The dialogue wheel appears yet again, and the exact same options appear.

"Something hard, please," says Shetland.

"Sorry," says the turian. "We're out."

"What will you do? Experience Mass Effect like never before," says Keith David. The screen goes black and large, blocky, metallic text fades into view. The text is distressed and damaged as if it has been blasted by something; its edges glow orange as if they are burning, while the text itself is a deep steel blue.

_Mass Effect 4: Revelations_

There is a smash cut to a CGI cut scene that shows the default Norweigan model PC running through a monochrome battlefield that looks suspiciously like a bombed-out Arab village or small town. The screen is tinted a deep blue and the PC has a glowing splash of orange on their side for no reason. They shoot at something and something blows up and that's it.


	13. Shitadel - Rest and Relaxation

Somewhere in the Citadel, Bastard Shepard stood erect behind a glass balcony railing with an anachronistic beer in his hand and addressed the buzzing throng that filled his flat. Upon his call, the multitude was silenced.

_I am the Shepard. And you call me a bastard. You are all privy to a great party, but you recognize nothing. To me, you are husks in the sun. You are big stupid jellyfishes. It is your nature to suck. Before me, you rightly scatter. But hatred is not what you owe me. You owe me one kick ass party. _

**Shitadel**

_In which everything ends, in the end. But in which not every ending is equal. I should go._

Shepard entered the Citadel crack house with the sort of soft, dubious step that an amateur Japanese tourist might have when first stepping foot into the Pearl Harbor area; he had the vague sense that someone was about to yell drunken slurs at him and throw a glass bottle at his head. It is similar to the feeling that most elitists get whenever they come near the armpits of society, although anyone who knows they are about to enter the presence of dangerous degenerates will be familiar with it.

He pressed a finger to his ear-radio. "EDI. I told you where I am, right?"

"Several times, Shepard."

He breathed a sigh of relief. A grimy and half naked turian eyed him before leaning over the semen smeared glass balcony above and vomiting onto the heads of two rutting vorch, who did not seem to notice a thing.

"Whew!" said Shepard. "That's a relief. Let's just make sure: where did I say I was going?"

"Ah." EDI paused palpably. "Hm. The…the _shhhmhh_?" she trailed off.

Shepard shook his head ruefully. "EDI, EDI. Get Joker's baby-carrot sized dick out of your mouth and answer my fucking question."

"It's strange, commander, but the log entry you requested seems to have been deleted. By me. I hope that you are somewhere safe."

"I'm at a crack house that Anderson told me to visit." Shepard watched as the turian took notice of the mating vorcha he had vomited on and began to masturbate, though with the ostensible purpose of injecting hard drugs into his pee-hole. Shepard sighed. "He said it was a wild sex party house full of sex crazed aliens. Which I guess was true."

"That's fascinating, commander," said EDI. "Almost as fascinating as our existential debates about my status as a sentient organism."

"I hope for Joker's sake that you can do sarcasm as good as you can suck his penis. And I'm sending my coordinates again—don't delete them. That's an order."

"Of course, commander." EDI cut the communication without being given permission. Shepard bit the back of his wrist in irritation but was distracted by a nearby large screen TV flickering on. Captain Anderson's beleaguered face came into view.

"Shepard." He saluted, bloodshot eyes taking bemused note through the camera on the TV of an asari whore stuffing alien dollar bills into her moldy g-string as an elcor with giant needle-scabs collapsed in a twitching heap and began to foam at the gills, and urine was everywhere for no discernible reason. A wry smile twisted the old captain's lips. "I see you've finally found your homeland, Shepard."

"These are my people, sultan." Shepard spread his arms. "And you will let them go."

A salarian with an enormous syringe stuck into his forehead gave Shepard a weird look.

"Actually, this is my apartment," said Anderson. "Well, it was my apartment. I was going to move in here with Kay…Kath…K. Sanders, but, well…"

"She's dead," sympathized Shepard.

"Uh, no," said Anderson. "Despite your best efforts she is still very much alive. And she can twerk like a motherfucker." Fond reminiscence lightened his heavy eyes. It was good to have something to come home to.

"So what happened to the love flat?" asked Shepard, ignoring all the love that was happening all over the flat.

"Vagrants broke in almost as soon as I bought it," said Anderson. "I was back at Earth giving my report in person, and it was a few days after you blew up the council—let's just say C-sec couldn't be assed to help a human out."

"Ah," said Shepard. "The memories." In his mind's eye he envisioned the shattering of the Destiny Ascension, of thousands of asari, turian, and salarian lives being snuffed out in an instant.

"You all right, Shepard?"

"Never been better, sir."

Anderson took note of what might have been an erection in the Commander's pants. "I was asking about your surgery. Joker told me that you had some sort of incident?"

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "Joker, huh? He just loves to spill my secrets. I should increase the dose."

"What's that?"

Shepard raised his voice. "I said I should increase the dose of poison that I'm trying to give Joker cancer with."

Anderson made a mental note to send Joker a warning next time he had a free minute. "He said something about your entire face falling off? Something about how you were basically a husk underneath, and you needed a skin graft. Where did you find a donor?"

Shepard sighed. "It was difficult to find a matching donor on the Normandy's diverse and multicultural crew. Thanks for stocking me up with all the minorities, by the way."

Anderson gave him the one finger salute.

"Eventually," said Shepard, "we lured Dr. Michele aboard with the promise of rough sex with Garrus. Then we knocked her out and stole her ass, which I am now wearing on my face."

Anderson looked slightly peeved. "Doctors are invaluable in times of war. I assume you gave her a replacement?"

Shepard was taken aback. "Of course, sir. We gave her EDI's giant poly fiber butt cheeks."

"And how did you replace EDI? Her butt cheeks, that is."

"With a toaster oven," said Shepard. "She can make a mean grilled cheese sandwich. I mean, she could before, but it took longer."

"I probably shouldn't find that funny," said Anderson. "Which is why I don't. How are we on that court martial, by the way? Did they kick you out of the military yet?"

Shepard shrugged. "Sorry, the Reapers killed the entire jury. With small arms fire, in their beds. On the Citadel. It was Husks, actually. I mean, reaper cultists. I mean, me. I'm a spectre by the way."

"Damn war," said Anderson. "Well, that's why I called: I want to give this flat for some R&R while you're still on the Citadel—God knows I don't have any use for it, and God knows you sound like you could use it." His eye twinkled. "And don't say no—this isn't a gift, it's an order. You deserve it."

"Gee. Thanks."

"Don't mention it, Commander." Anderson saluted again. "Earth out."

"Hope he dies," said Shepard.

A few calls and a few hours later, an experienced looking asari C-Sec officer handed Shepard a holographic tablet to sign off on as her coworkers filed the last of the filthy vagrants out the door.

"Don't mind me asking, commander," she began in a gruff voice, "but shouldn't you be out fighting the Reapers? Not calling in petty narcotics violations."

"The streets need cleaning," said B. "This isn't justice. This is punishment."

"That's great. Shouldn't you be out 'cleaning' the Reapers?"

"Shouldn't you be out fucking everything that moves like a good asari?"

The officer smirked and checked her watch. "It's not Friday night yet. What's your excuse?"

"I'm flattered, officer," said Shepard. "But I'm not attracted to alien scum."

"I meant about the reapers, asshole." The asari rubbed her forehead. "Look, this isn't an interrogation. I was just trying to make conversation."

"Then let me answer your question with another question," said B. "Why aren't _you_ out fighting the Reapers?"

"The citadel needs protecting, too."

"From what?" Shepard made squiggly fingers. "The Shadow Broker? OoOoOoOooO. Give me a fucking break. What could be more important than fighting the Reapers?"

The asari rolled her eyes. "You know, after wars, people usually like to have a home to go back to. Winning isn't going to be much use if thugs take over the Citadel."

"It will be a whole lot of use, because if we _don't _win then there won't be any people left to go home or to take over the Citadel. Because they'll be _fucking dead_."

The asari's eyes narrowed. "You're being awfully evasive. Something I should know about, commander?"

"Sorry," said Shepard. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings: the truth is that I'm planning to host a giant, kick ass party in this shindig for only the coolest people on the Citadel. And you're not invited."

"You know," said the asari officer, "I moonlight as a licensed alien scum stripper slash prostitute."

"Eight o'clock," said Shepard. He turned away, then turned back. "Wait. How many tennis balls can you fit in your mouth?"

Later, after Shepard had found and collected Anderson's strange, rambling audio logs, and after he had called the renovation and cleaning service to put in his special requests, and after he had also called the local black market dealer, he hopped in his rented hover car and zipped off towards the best sushi restaurant in town.

He listened to some of Anderson's interview recordings on the way, starting with Shepard's favorite subject.

"Why does everyone ask about Shepard? I'm so much more interesting, you know. I could have been a spectre if it wasn't for Saren. And I could have stopped Saren if it wasn't for Shepard. But hey, I get it—Shepard's white, and the galaxy loves straight white humans. Not that I'm not straight, of course. So, about Shepard. There's a lot of rumor out there about the commander—and a lot of truth, because he's a piece of shit. But the lies are a lot more complicated than the truth. People say he's a war criminal, but that's like calling a rifle a sharp shooter; a gun is just a tool. Same thing with Shepard. Anyone who does what the man says is more of a war criminal than he can ever be. That's what being a human being is all about, you know: taking responsibility for the galaxy. The truth is that's something Shepard will never understand, because he's not a human being. And I'm not talking about those rumors of cybernetic enhancement, although you could make a case that Shepard is more of a Reaper than a sentient organism. What I'm saying is that the commander is like one of those comic book villains. You know the ones, the ones that just want to blow up the universe for no reason. You think that's bad writing when you're a kid, when you're reading that trash. But then you meet Shepard and you realize, no, there are people like that. People that just want to watch the galaxy catch on fire and stay on fire for an extended period of time. …Damn, that was bad. Can we re-record that? There must be a better way to say that."

Shepard switched off the recording. "Wow, that was depressing. Hope he dies."

Soon enough he landed his air car outside _Sushi de Sade_ and got out. He was wearing an incredibly trim and fit formal wear style suit for this occasion, which for Bastard Shepard meant a t-shirt with the words "Terrafirma for Life" on the chest. Various people gasped and stared as he strutted past. A few of them ran, and several others began to scream profanities. Shepard sheltered under his personal shielding unit as rotten eggs and orange peels pelted him. Eventually he made it to the entrance.

"Bonjur!" exclaimed a human with a black moustache, scampering up to meet him. "Welcome to-"

"I have a reservation," said Shepard. "The name's: 'I'm a spectre, give me a table.'"

The man looked flustered, but obviously was too terrified to say no. "O-of course sir. I'll just seat you, and someone will be right with you!"

Shepard followed him over the very sturdy and definitely unbreakable aquarium floor to a small table in an intimate alcove at the back of the restaurant. It looked like a good place to get raped.

"This looks like a good place to get raped," said Shepard to the mustached man, who promptly fled the area. Shepard sat down with a sigh and twiddled his thumbs. He had read about this place on the extranet. Also, it was the only sushi place in the Citadel that hadn't banned him. It was also the only sushi place that he hadn't gone to yet, primarily because he'd read about how shitty it was on the extranet.

"Commander!" It was Joker, unfortunately. The inappropriately cap-wearing, unshaven pilot limped across the very robust aquarium floor to meet Shepard, waving his arms in greeting. He seemed unaccountably pleased to see the commander.

"Oh no," said Shepard. "I must have accidentally sent that lay-off email. You're not working here now, are you? I want another waiter." He started to rise.

"Very funny, ha-ha," said Joker as he slid into a chair. One of the wandering waiters immediately supplied him with a glass of purple liquid.

"How come he gets a drink?" asked Shepard to the retreating woman's back. "Hey! I said how come he gets a drink!?" She started to run away.

"I'm a regular," said Joker, taking a deep sip. "Hey, you'll pay for this, right?"

"You're the one who's going to be paying," said Shepard ominously.

Joker shrugged. "End times, right? Stranger things have happened than me picking up a tab."

"End times?" Shepard looked at him askance. "Please, Joker, I'm trying to not enjoy the meal which I don't have. Don't ruin my R&R."

"You didn't hear?" asked Joker. "Another colony has gone dark. Maple."

"Excuse me?"

"The colony. It's called Maple. Or was, I guess."

"Maple. Humanity never ceases to amaze me."

"Speaking of humanity," began Joker carefully, "how are you feeling? Did the face transplant go okay?"

"You mean the face off? Yes, it went fine, probably because I poisoned Dr. Chakwas and hid the antidote in my personal safe as insurance."

"Great!" said Joker with forced cheer. "Don't worry about poisoning my only source of physical therapy. Well, second, after EDI came on board and became my hot girl robot girlfriend."

Shepard scowled. "Just rub my nose in it why don't you? Come to think of it, you better be careful where you put your nose—wouldn't want to get burned in your girlfriend's toaster ass."

"Thanks for that, by the way," said Joker sarcastically.

"Don't mention it. Faggot."

"That brings me to my other question," said Joker. "Why aren't we out there fighting the Reapers?"

That did it. Shepard was tired of Joker's constant joking and nagging and general annoyingness. It was time to deliver the all-time verbal beat down, the ultimate smack down, the perfect lecture, the best telling off he had ever given. He would make the scrawny pilot weep until he cried blood, and then he would make the man kill himself. This would be his best rant yet. He would murder Joker with words.

"Fuck off," he said.

At that moment, a young dark skinned woman in an alliance uniform came stumbling across the impervious aquatic fish tank floor towards them. She minced her way past a flock of whispering waiters and advanced on Shepard and Joker's table, brandishing a datapad.

"Commander!" she squeaked. "Commander! My name is Lieutenant Brooks-I mean, it's an honor to see you, sir, I mean, Commander Shepard, I mean-Oh, God, I'm making a total ass of myself." She took a deep, steadying breath. "Listen: I have reason to believe that someone is trying to-"

Shepard shot her in the face.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Joker as red chunks plopped into his drink one after the other. He did stand or bother to move; he was used to violence happening in his face, sometimes to his face. The dead woman slumped to the floor with a surprised gurgle and did not get up. As screams began to rise throughout the diner, Joker shakily mopped his face off with a napkin and pushed his drink away, not looking at the eyeball floating in it. "What the hell, Shepard?"

"Whoa-ho-ho, sorry about that." Shepard flicked the eyeball out of Joker's drink and appropriated it for himself with a few judicial sips. "I've just been really stressed lately and I tend to lash out." He kicked the leaking corpse in the face. "Sorry again, ma'am. Ma'am?"

There was no response.

Shepard set down the drink in front of a blanching Joker, then knelt by the body. "I'll check for a pulse," he said, and then stole her wallet. "Hm, nothing." He went to sit back down and grabbed the drink again, as if he thought Joker would try to steal it back. "What do you think she wanted, Joker? Hey, is this grape flavored? I love grape."

"You are still a spectre, right? Above the law and everything?" asked Joker as the restaurant rapidly emptied around them, everyone storming towards the exits and wailing in terror about Cerberus attacks and Reaper invasions. People had been a little jumpy ever since the last debacle with Cerberus.

"I sure am," said Shepard. "How do you think a got this kick ass table and service?" He grinned at Joker. "Hey, you can be my complementary sex slave. Get under the table." Then he winked, a bloody human tooth falling out of his eyebrow and plinking onto the aquarium floor.

Joekr laughed nervously. "Maybe you should, I don't know, take a break or something. Get some R&R, you know."

"Wow," said Shepard. "Telling me to take a break right after you come and ruin my break. Is that what reverse psychology is? Why didn't I think of that? I should send a memo out to every motherfucker in the galaxy telling them to come interrupt me all the time. Maybe then they won't show their dumb cunt faces at my table with their stupid faggot caps and nigger drinks."

"Wow," said Joker. "I was going to suggest you hang out with your friends, but then, well..."

"Suck my dick."

Joke rolled his eyes. "Okay, jeez. I'll leave you alone with your killing spree." He made to stand up. "Have fun murdering random women, Commander."

"No, I was being serious," said Shepard. "Literally suck my dick."

"Bye." Joker limped out of the restaurant as fast as he could, leaving Shepard alone to sigh and lean back in his chair.

"Wow. Now I just feel bad. I mean, great. 'Great' was the word I was thinking of." He opened his communications link. "EDI."

"Yes, Commander?"

"I want you to gather a manifesto of the coolest people on the Normandy. Send it to my console at Anderson's place. Also, find the worst caterer on the Citadel."

_To be continued..._


	14. Shitadel - The Summoning of the Many

_In a comfortable alcove aboard the Normandy…._

Tali brought up a holographic display of the message, turning her wrist to show Garrus. "What do you think it is? Another death threat?"

Garrus narrowed his eyes and read the message aloud. "'Be at my place tonight, or else. Ha ha ha. P.S. Bring straws, also drinks. P.P.S. You'll be seeing your daddy real soon, whore.'" He shook his head.

"What do you think he means by that?" insisted Tali.

"He probably thinks you have a lot of straws because you're a Quarian, and everyone knows that Quarians use straws. Is that…" Garrus looked vaguely uncomfortable "is that a stereotype or something? Sorry, I didn't mean—"

Tali punched him in the shoulder. "You big idiot. I meant the other thing."

"You mean the last thing?" Garrus looked even more uncomfortable. "Is there something I should know about, Tali?"

Tali threw up in her helmet. "NO. God no. Look, he literally meant my dad. It's this thing he does, where he reminds me that my dad is dead every single day."

Garrus gasped. "That's horrible!"

"Obviously, yes, but he's been doing it for three years straight," said Tali. "So it lost a lot of the punch. Eventually.

"Well." Garrus crossed his arms, considering. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he was planning some sort of—" His omni tool beeped. Garrus sighed and brought up the display, only to be surprised by a familiar looking message. Tali read it out loud this time.

"'Be at my place tonight, or I will murder Tali. P.S. Bring turian soup, also medical supplies. P.P.S. Come an hour early if you want me to be your daddy.'"

"That's vaguely terrifying," said Garrus.

"So…" Tali fiddled with her knife. It was a nervous habit. "Me and the others have been talking. We think it might be a good time to…you know. Do the thing. The thing we did before. You know."

Garrus looked at her blankly.

"You know." Tali drew a thumb across her throat. "_You know._"

"Oh. OH!" Garrus brightened. "I didn't want to bring it up, but I agree!" His expression darkened. "What about the war, though?"

"Joker says that Shepard's been spending all his time crashing restaurants and shooting black people lately. I don't think Earth's going to miss him."

"Fair enough," said Garrus.

_In a small, high security apartment on the Citadel…_

Samara's console blinked. She stood up from her cross legged meditation position in her apartment on the citadel, a faint nimbus of biotic energy still lingering around her body. She approached the glowing terminal and tapped one key with two slender fingers. Her silver eyes widened in surprise as she read.

_Be at my place tonight, or else. P.S. Bring ping pong balls, golf balls, tennis balls, and baseballs. I know you have them. P.P.S. Wear the red one, the one with the giant hole in the chest._

"…balls?"

_ In a krogan ops camp somewhere in the galaxy…_

Grunt was just scraping huge chunks of reaper offal off his body in a small portable showering unit when his small, dusty portable communicator band started bleeping. He finished up and waddled out of the cramped bath to gingerly pick up the device and read the message. His mouth slowly began to open and close as he read the words to himself.

_Grunt. I once promised I would feed you real live sentient beings. It is time. Come to my place on the Citadel tonight. _

"Uh-oh," said Grunt.

_ In an Omega crack house…_

Zaeed sighed as a great wave of bliss rolled over him, starting from the point where he had injected a cocktail of painkillers and narcotics into his upper thigh. The constant agony of his head wound dimmed to barely manageable levels.

Suddenly, his omni tool beeped.

"Guddam it."

Zaeed opened his eyes and glared down at the message as if it had personally executed his entire family in cold blood. His eyes narrowed to unnatural slits as he continued to read.

_I've got a clean up job for you, straight from alliance command. I'm talking millions per capita. Come to my place tonight. P.S. Bring guns. P.P.S. Bring drugs._

"I thought I was guddam retired," said Zaeed. "Didn't I send that message out?" He sighed heavily, staring around at his dank meth cave. "Fuck it."

_Aboard the Normandy…_

"Read the message for me, Glyph," said Liara as she clattered away at her control console, her eyes glued to the dozens of information displays papering the wall of her quarters. Her face was glowing blue from the bright lights of the screens, and two full cups of tea were cooling at the far end of her table.

The hard light construct hovered up by her shoulder, humming quietly. "Yes, of course, Ms. T'soni. Ahem. 'Get your blueberry flavored ass over to my place tonight. Come prepared to smurf some smurfs. P.S. Bring the juice. P.P.S. Don't bring Glyph.'"

Liara hands hovered over the keyboard for a moment. "It looks like we have a party to attend, Glyph."

"Aren't you going to ask who sent you this message?"

"No."

_At a Purgatory rave…_

Jack head butted a foaming turian so hard that he flew out of the mosh pit and into a table of tweens. The blaring of the shitty post pseudo alt blast punk tech music filled her ears, turning her into a ball of rage and tattoos. She continued to lay about her with her fists and head, knocking away any asshole who dared stand in her path. As the song crashed to a halt she felt her ear bud chime. She tapped it irritably as she stalked out of the pit, grabbing a discarded shirt to mop the sweat off of her face. Her muscles were still jittery.

"Jack," said an all too familiar recorded voice in her ear. "I'm going to have enough booze and blow at my pad tonight to kill a whacked out biotic elephant. Get someone to sub for your faggot students and stop by. P.S. This isn't an open mic night. Leave your fucking poetry in the trash."

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me," said a young, skinny looking, half naked man. "That's my shirt."

Jack stuffed the rag down the front of her pants. "Come get it."

_At the Spectre requisitions department on the Citadel…_

Ashley Williams glared at the arsenal of Spectre weaponry arrayed before her. She'd asked Shepard to give her a run-down of how the local Spectre head quarters worked, but he had told her to "go bomb some school buses or whatever it is you people do." She had long ago become immunized to his behavior—she had psalms that she recited in her head and everything, preaching love and tolerance.

She was eyeing the largest assault rifle on the rack when her omni tool blipped. She glanced down.

"As-salamu alaykum, sister Williams. This is father Shepard. Come to my safe house on the Citadel this night to discuss our next burning crusade of justice against the unclean alien races. P.S. Bring hummus."

_In the Normandy's cock pit…_

"And then he told me to 'literally suck his dick,'" said Joker. "Which was a bit of a surprise, I guess."

EDI's eyes were fixed on the Normandy's' controls. "Not at all. I have observed Commander Shepard exhibiting several homosexual behaviors, particularly during times when he was under a high degree of stress."

"But he called me a faggot."

"Commander Shepard's mental health is also questionable."

"I hear that." Joker's omni tool blorped loudly. "Oh, sorry." He opened a short text message that had appeared, hovering above his wrist.

_Joker. I want you to loan EDI to me and my party guests for tonight's bacchanal; I've been looking all over town and you wouldn't believe how expensive whores are these days. P.S. Bake her into a cake or something. Use your imagination._

EDI was leaning out of her seat to read the message. "I would like to go, Jeff. With you as a shaparone, of course."

Joker's eyebrows disappeared into his cap. "_Really_."

"Yes," said EDI. "Since I gained a body, I have been communicating in secret with the rest of the crew and organizing another assassination attempt on Commander Shepard. It would be unfair to leave everyone else to do it alone."

Joker nodded slowly. "I hate to say it, but I think you might be right. Did I tell you how he shot a black woman in the face just for coming into a restaurant? A black woman, EDI. And then he drank my cocktail. With her _eyeball _floating in it."

"Had you paid for the cocktail, Jeff?" asked EDI.

"Well..." Joker shrugged. "No, but that's not really the point."

_In an unknown location…_

Kasumi Goto reverently placed the ancient and tiny African fertility figurine on the mantle next to Jacob's portrait.

"This one's for you, Jake," she said wistfully, toasting the make-shift shrine with a thimble of saki. A small rotating holo recording of a muscular figure doing perpetual sit-ups was spinning on the other end of the memorial.

"Ah." Kasumi smacked her lips. She was just about to head into the bathroom and change into her kimono when her comm console blared. Quick as a flash, she popped over and brought up the display. A short message materialized in front of her eyes.

_Kasumi. If I pay you ten thousand credits, will you come to my party?_

She frowned. Her fingers flew on the holographic display. _Twenty thousand, Shep._

There was a pause.

_Fifteen._

_ Fifteen, and I get my pick of anything I find in the house, or in your pockets._

_ Twelve and you can look, and I won't kill you if I catch you stealing._

_ Thirteen and I get to take one thing, no matter what it is, and I don't have to tell you what I took._

_ Deal. As long as it's not my underwear._

_ I can't make that promise, Shep._

_ Fine. Be here at eight. _

She closed her omni tool and took a sip of her sake. Tonight was going to be a good night.

_ On Tuchanka…_

"Do you think I could beat him in an arm wrestling match?" asked Wrex.

"I am sure you would, Wrex," said Eve in a long suffering voice.

Wrex shifted uncomfortably on his throne. "I mean, he's got all those cybernetic enhancements. And he's tough, which you wouldn't guess by how he's always yapping like a pijack. Come on, I've got a ton on him. And I've got twice as many balls. That's gotta count for something."

"I'm sure it does," said Eve.

Wrex eyed her. "He didn't come on to you again, did he?"

"Are you looking for an excuse to kill Shepard? He did help us cure the genophage."

"I know." Wrex grunted. "And I was sure he was going to sabotage it, like Mordin told me he would."

"Maybe Shepard is not as bad as you think."

"Unlikely." Wrex leaned forwards, resting his considerable chin on one fist. "Shepard needs the krogan. The real question is: do we need him? If this was war was against anything other than the Reapers—" His omni tool belched. Wrex glared down at it, his oversized fingers flexing uncertainly.

"Let me." Eve prodded the holographic controls until a text message hovered over Wrex's wrist.

_Wrex._

"Shepard," said Wrex automatically. Eve raised her eyebrows. They continued reading.

_How's the constant sex orgy going? You'll be repopulating that shit hole Tuchanka in no time, I bet. Don't Krogan spawn, like, a hundred vag turds per clutch? That's what the galaxy needs right now-more krogan gooners headbutting everything in sight. I hope you're real proud of yourself and your painted tribe of inbred mongloid toads. I bet the salarians are already cooking up a second genophage as we speak-you better keep your slimy hands off of Australia after all this is over, or the krogan might find themselves jerking off over cook fires in the stone age again. Also, tell Eve she's an ugly, fat bitch. P.S. I'm having a party at the Citadel tonight at eight, galactic standard time. Be there or I'll make a biological bombing run over your entire planet. REMOVE THE KROGAN OBSTRUCTION!_

"He's in a good mood," said Wrex.

_At an Illium pharmacy…_

Miranda examined the drug's label with a dubious feeling.

_Warning: may cause extraneous nipples in mammalian species. If a desire to consume vast amounts of diet pudding appears, consult your doctor immediately. Fertility is not guaranteed—if you grow a secondary womb, consult your doctor immediately. If you become a man, consult your doctor immediately. If a demonic hell beast claws its way out of your vagina, consult your doctor immediately._

She set the bottle of bright red pills down on the pharmacist's counter and stared at the far wall with a blank expression on her face. "I wish Mordin was still alive. He might have made a custom version of this for me. One with fewer risk factors."

"What's that, miss?" asked the dingy looking Volus pharmacist.

She eyed the rotund creature. "Nothing. Never mind."

"That'll be five hundred credits."

"I'm not buying it."

"There are still shipping fees."

"Fine." She brought up her omni-tool to make the transfer and noticed a message in her inbox.

_Hey. I really enjoyed last night. Do you want to come by my house on the Citadel? Let's say eight o'clock. P.S. Bring wine._

"Ugh." She deleted the message and headed towards the exit. She was probably better off avoiding fertility drugs for a few weeks, actually. Her omni tool chimed again and she glanced.

_Get your gigantic white supremacist ass over to my pad tonight; I need someone who will make my life look better in comparison for my party. By the way, bring your sister if you can-she hot. Be there at eight. P.S. Kill yourself._

She nodded coldly. EDI had already briefed her on tonight's plan.

_In a dank, half finished wing of the Normandy…_

The primitive console rang brutishly with an inelegant chime. Javik stomped over to the monkey device and hammered on it with his fist until its cheap, barely functional electronics registered his superior Prothean input. The blocky text of this cycle's ignominious dirt-language materialized before his effulgent eyes, allowing him to perceive the garbled, degenerate thoughts of whatever moronic mud sapling was attempting to parlay with him. He read the retarded message with absolute disdain.

_Dear Javik,_

_ If you're planning on killing yourself, come to my pad tonight at the Citadel so we can all watch. I could use some entertainment._

Javik began to respond to the message with indignant speed. The words "in my cycle" were the first to appear on the display.

_ To be continued…._


	15. Shitadel - The Invasion of a Man's Home

Bastard Shepard minced excitedly over to the door as the bell began to buzz. It would be the first of many buzzes, he was sure. He hurriedly keyed open the door and put on his most friendly smile, slapping his cheeks lightly to make sure his cologne popped and that his skin was completely shaven; he'd even gotten a haircut, and had changed into his very casual "Homosexuality is a choice" t-shirt. He smiled to himself and prepared his list of offensive greetings, excited to see who would be first.

"You're early—" Shepard's words died in his throat.

"Hola pendejo," said James Vega as he strutted over the thresh hold, his enormous arms bulging and his barrel-sized chest straining beneath his muscle shirt. He struck a body builder's pose before looking around the room. "Whoa. Nice pad, loco." HIs nostrils twitched, and he grinned. "Do I smell a gym?"

Shepard was, impossibly, at a loss for words. "It's...in the back. What are you doing here?"  
>"Joker invited me," said James. He held up a thirty six pack of milky white liquid in glass bottles. "Where do you want this?"<p>

"The sink," said Shepard. "Didn't I kill you?"

James looked equally confused."What? Oh! You're talking about that sparring match we had in the cargo hold, si?" He cracked his knuckles. "I wouldn't say you killed me, nah. We could always have another quick go before the rest of the party gets here, loco."

"We could always fuck off."

"Ha!" James tore a cap off one of his beers with his teeth and slid the crate onto the counter. "Someone piss in your cereal today, loco?"

"No," said Shepard. "But someone crashed my party."

James looked around. "Who?"

At that moment, Kasumi Goto materialized at Shepard's shoulder with her arms crossed, leaning casually to one side.

"Sorry, Shep," she said. "I wanted to beat the rush."

Shepard looked over at her with no perceptible surprise. "I thought something was watching me in the shower. By the way, while you were rooting through my computer's browser history, I vacuumed up all of those deadly Teroclosian bloat spiders that you dumped into my sheets."

"I'm not sorry," said Kasumi. "Quarian puke porn, Shepard? Really? That's going to be burned into my retinas for the rest of my life."

"Good. I put that on there so that you would see it."

An uncomfortable silence followed.

"Yes," said Kasumi. "Well. So you say."

"Like I care what you think, you buck toothed chink." Shepard jerked his head at her. "Want to help me kill James?"

Kasumi eyed James, who seemed to think that this was all a joke. "I don't know, Shep. I'm a thief, not an assassin. Besides—I like his shoulders."

James began to flex again.

"Thane would have helped me kill him," said Shepard tartly.

Kasumi did not seem to hear him. "How many push ups can you do?" she asked James.

The door buzzed again before James could retort with an erotic Latino flirt. Shepard waved it open before he even turned to look, and in walked Ashley Williams. Shepard sighed in relief. "Finally! Someone who I'm actually happy to see. Oh wait, it's you. Never mind."

Ashey smiled half heartedly. "I'm surprised you bothered to invite someone who isn't on your crew anymore. Did you miss me?"

Shepard looked confused. "No. You mean back on the Citadel? Well, yes, I was aiming for your head, but I still hit you."

"That's not funny," said Ashley. She caught sight of James Vegeta. "Oh. Hi Vega." James twitched his lats at her in greeting. Ashley looked reluctantly away. "I could have sworn I heard three voices."

"That was Kasumi," said Shepard. "She's an autistic loner bitch."

Kasumi materialized sitting on top of a counter across from Shepard. "I'm right here, you know."

"I know," said Shepard. A knock sounded from the open door as Ashley gaped at the spot where Kasumi had been. Shepard turned to see Tali and Garrus entering together. Holding hands.

"Hey, Sparks," said Vega. He nodded to Garrus. "Scars."

They waved cordially. "Didn't think Shepard would invite you, Vega," said Garrus genially. "Didn't he say you were non-'Orion' or something?"

"That's non-Aryan." Shepard looked between them. "'Sparks?' 'Scars?' What is this, some private retard language?" He rounded on Garrus. "And you. Holding hands with Tali like that and not holding turian soup in your hands. Where's the turian soup?"

"I..." Garrus's mandibles bobbed. "I thought you were joking."

"I did bring straws," said Tali holding out several striped plastic straws.

Shepard slapped them out of her hand. "_That _was a joke. Nobody needs straws except for Tali, and I obviously I don't give a shit whether she dies of dehydration or not."

"And I obviously brought my own personal straw," said Tali, kneeling primly to gather her straws. "Some people find straws fun, you know."

Garrus nodded in support.

"'Some people find straws fun,'" repeated Shepard in absolute amazement. "What sort of cutie pie couple bullshit is this. Did Garrus fuck some sort of delusional, brain destroying fever into you?"

Ashley giggled. Garrus and Tali noticed her for the first time; their view had been obstructed by the wall of muscle that was James Vega. They all nodded to each other with the air of conspirators. Shepard missed this exchange, occupied as he was with assessing the next group of people to come in through the door. It was Samantha Traynor and Steve Cortez.

James waved, kicking everyone's hair up with the wind of his flailing arms. "Hola, Esteban, Sam!"

"Hi, James!" said Samantha. She had a bag of trail mix under one arm. Steve Cortez was carrying a bottle of liquor. They stopped in front of Shepard, who was staring at them with a disconcerting expression on his face.

Steve thumbed over his shoulder sheepishly. "Sorry, Commander. The door was open, and we thought we'd led ourselves in."

Ashley shouldered past Shepard before he could respond politely and invitingly. "I'm Ashley Williams. You may have read my file when you transferred to the Normandy." She exchanged grips with Steven and Samantha, the latter of whom blushed slightly.

"Um, hi," said Samantha.

"It's a pleasure, ma'am," said Steve.

"Wait a minute," said Shepard, frowning furiously at the new arrivals. "When were you two on the Normandy? When? When I was hunting the Collectors?"

Samantha looked confusedly around the kitchen. No one would meet her gaze. "W-what? Commander, we're on the Normandy right now." Steve tried to pat her on the shoulder, but she did not seem to notice.

"No, we're not," said Shepard, now completely confused. "We're in my apartment. What are you trying to say? Is this some sort of paradox test? I'm not _all_ robot, you know."

"You talk to me every morning," said Samantha Tranyor somewhat desperately. "You teased me about being attracted to EDI's voice-don't you remember?"

"I really don't," said Shepard.

Garrus sighed. "He probably does. Don't worry about it, Traynor."

"No," said Shepard. "I really don't."

Traynor looked like she was going to cry. There was a very awkward silence.

Shepard snapped his fingers. "OH! I remember. You're the one who beat me at chess, right?"

Traynor's face brightened. "Yes!"

"Yeah!" Shepard smiled at her and Cortez. "Get out of my house you god damn dyke. You too, ass shuttle. They day I invite homosexuals into my home is the day I become a sinner."

"Wait—" James Vega held up his hands to stall the conversation in his typical fashion. "Hold on one sec, loco. I thought you were batting for the other team. If you know what I mean."

"Only on Sundays," said Shepard. "And this isn't a Sunday." He looked pointedly at Traynor and Cortez.

"Joker invited us," said Steve. He pointed at Shepard's "Homosexuality Is a Choice" shirt. "I thought that was why you were wearing that shirt."

"Well, now I'm uninviting you," said Shepard. He nodded at Vega. "Johns, throw these coons out."

James raised an eyebrow. "It's 'James.' And what about me?"

Shepard nodded thankfully. "Throw yourself out too, while you're at it."

"No."James crossed his arms. So did the others.

"This is my party," said Shepard. "This is my house. Get. The fuck. Out."

"This isn't all about you, you know. We all needed a break." Samantha Traynor sniffed and straightened her back resolutely. "So make me. Sir, I mean. Make me, sir."

Shepard gaped at her. "Feminism just found its poster girl."

"You're being a bastard," said Garrus.

Shepard held up a finger. "Hold that thought." He disappeared into his bedroom for a few seconds, then came back with a dark expression on his face. He cleared his throat. "Kasumi."

Kasumi materialized right behind James Vega, obviously admiring his fatigues clad tush. She looked distractedly away. "What's up, Shep?"

"Where's my gun?"

"I don't know. Where did you put it last?"

"On my dresser."

Kasumi turned her hands over. "Well, did you check there?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, I don't know where it is."

"Did you touch it?"

Kasumi's eyes avoided his. Her lips twitched. "Nooo."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeees."

Shepard opened a nearby drawer that was full of knives. "So, Kasumi, which is your favorite hand? Your right hand or your left hand?"

"Whoa," said Kasumi. "Was there milk in that tea you made? I'll be right back." She promptly disappeared.

Shepard glared at the place where she had been standing. "I was wondering who drank my tea. I thought it might have been the spiders."

"Anyone going to clue me as to what's going on?" said James Vega cluelessly, offering a chance for people to explain to him things that anybody who cared already knew.

"Shepard's a bosh'tet," explained Tali.

Shepard turned slowly towards her. "Hey. Tali. You know what?"

"Shepard…" She covered the top of her helmet with her fingers as if trying to keep her head from exploding.

"Guess what, though?"

"I know."

"But your dad."

"I know."

"Your dad's dead."

"I. Know."

_To be continued…_


	16. Shitadel - Front Door Breakdown

Samara walked through the still open door to Shepard's apartment as if she owned the whole place. She stopped in the middle of the living room, by the end table, and closed her eyes for a moment, looking almost like some sort of mystical warrior from space.

"I sense a disturbance in eternity here."

Shepard approached her obliquely, leaving the others in the kitchen. "Maybe it's because you crossed the threshold of my home without being invited."

Samara's face betrayed no emotions. "If you are referring to the human vampire myth, it was my daughter that most resembled it. Not me."

"Yeah, so you say, but I haven't _not _had sex with you and not died." Shepard sat down right next to where Samara was standing. Coincidentally, and just to set the scene, her enormous red-clad ass was right next to his face. Although she did not seem to notice this situation or this scene, Samara chose that moment to take a seat on the floor in a meditative pose. "Indeed not. Nor, for the hundredth time, will you ever have sex with me."

"You can't blame me for trying."

"Being foolish is not a crime," agreed Samara.

Shepard flicked his wrists up on the arm rests. "I can't help myself. I just have to know: does it taste like blueberries or marionberries?"

Samara cocked her head. "Being crass is also not a crime."

"Jeez, Shepard." Cortez approached and sat down in one of the arm chairs. "Tone it down would you?"

"Yeah." James Vega leaned against the fireplace piece. "Come on, loco."

Shepard looked between them. "This is the last time I let queers come to my parties. They always gang up on everyone else and play the social justice card."

"Hey," said James. "I'm a man's man. Just ask Williams."

Ashley broke off her conversation with Garrus and Tali to yell over at him. "I heard that, Vega!" He grinned, his pecs popping.

Shepard smiled. "You two go well together."

"Thanks," said James earnestly.

"Because you're both ethnics," finished Shepard.

Steve Cortez shook his head. "There you go again. And I thought you were going to be pleasant, at least for tonight."

"Maybe you should leave, then," said Shepard.

"Maybe I should." Cortez stood up and walked away, although he did not head out the door but instead went over to the bar.

Shepard called after him. "Hey, bring me one of your fruity drinks!"

As if nothing had happened, Samara spoke from the floor. "I am surprised that Lieutenant Cortez would hold such hopes; I have found Commander Shepard to be remarkably consistent when compared to every other human I have met. And some virtual intelligences."

Shepard eyed her suspiciously. "Consistently _what_?"

"Consistently _bullshit_," said Jack as she stormed into the apartment, trailing a cloud of evaporated sweat and drugs. Her knuckles were bruised and her hair was tangled, and one of her eyes had a burst blood vessel in it. She marched up and stood right in front of Shepard, who had not bothered to get up, and pointed a finger at him. "I got your message, you fucking mother fucker. I had to bust seven asses open just to work it off."

"That's great," said Shepard. "So, did you bring the drugs?"

Jack scoffed. "You frigid losers couldn't handle what I shoot up every morning, much less every night. I'm like the queen of the fucking universe."

"I can see you've been working on that creative writing degree," said Shepard. "But the drugs were the only reason I actually wanted you to come, so you can go away now."

"Fuck that. Fuck you." Jack threw herself into a chair and kicked her legs up onto the table. "I'm here to stay."

Cortez returned to his seat without looking at Shepard and extended a hand to Jack. "I'm Cortez."

Jack stared at his hand, then back at him. Shepard grinned. Although he would never admit it to her, he sometimes enjoyed watching Jack dish out her famous attitude. Also, he liked seeing Cortez get insulted.

"Where's my sex on the beach, Cortez?" he asked.

"In hell," said Cortez.

Jack rolled her eyes at this exchange, then eyed James Vega speculatively. "And who the hell are you?"

I'm James Vega," said James. "We met at Grissom."

"Whatever," said Jack.

"Hi!" squeaked Samantha Traynor, shuffling over. Her eyes took in Jack's 'attire.' "Oh my. You're very, um, naked. Aren't you."

"Sure am," said Jack. By this time the rest of the party had approached to see the new comers. Garrus and Tali exchanged cordial nods with Jack, while Ashley regarded her warily.

"Hello, Jack," said Samara serenely from her meditation on the floor.

"Whoa." Jack only then noticed her. "Already on your knees, huh?"

Shepard's eyes flashed. "Stop muscling in on my thing, Jack." A little attitude was okay, but she was starting to take it too far.

"Why don't you make me?"

"Maybe I will," said Shepard. His eyes narrowed, as if he were hearing something that nobody else was. "As...soon as I go kick Kasumi out of my underwear drawer." He stood up and walked stiffly towards the back room.

Jack's derisive laughter followed him. "Yeah, sure. I'll be right here, Shepard, just sitting on my enormous balls."

"Wow, is that what I sound like to other people?" thought Shepard as he ducked into his closet a few seconds later. "Kasumi, come out!"

There was no response.

"You're not going to find any underwear, Kasumi."

The thief materialized a few feet off to his left. "You mean you...you go commando?" her lip curled. "Ugh. That's just gross, Shep."

"A lot of male models do it."

"Sure they do." Kasumi looked around wildly. "Say, was there other milk in that other tea? Gotta go!" She disappeared.

After he was sure that she was gone, Shepard crossed the room and opened a secret panel in the wall. He typed in a secret code on a hidden key pad and then turned around to watch as golden light spilled out from a large, display-case-like panel that slowly began to rise from the floor. Shepard's face lit as his eyes fell upon his gold plated boxers. He laid a hand on the glass.

"Hush, my children. The oriental shall never have you."

By the time Shepard returned to the party, Wrex and Grunt were trying to fit through his front door at the same time. At least they hadn't tried to sneak in through the back—Shepard didn't think his back door could survive two krogan at once; they were much too large to make it together.

Shepard saw Cortez and the others watching the scene. "Hey, Cortez."

"What." Cortez did not look at him.

"Do you think two krogan at once could fit into your back door?"

"Go to hell, Shepard."

But the commotion at the door was not soon finished. "Stand aside, whelp," growled Wrex as he shoulder checked Grunt in the face. Even reeling from the blow, Grunt was much too large to be circumvented; the two krogan remained stuck in the door.

"Is that the best you've got, old man?" snarled the tank bred krogan in return.

"You've got a mouth on you," said Wrex. "Shepard been rubbing off on you, huh? Maybe we should call child services!" He gave Grunt another shove, which only succeeded in denting the doorway even more severely.

Grunt was unimpressed. "Your fancy word humor won't stop me from kicking your ass, old timer."

Shepard stood before them. "Hey guys. Having fun destroying my doors? I can't wait for you to destroy my whole house!"

"Give me a second, Shepard." With a burst of biotic power, Wrex threw Grunt out of the doorway and back into the hall. Then he strode through the battered frame as if nothing was amiss.

"Wrex," said Shepard.

"What is it?" asked Wrex, when the commander did not continue.

"What is what?" asked Shepard, looking confused.

"You said my name," said Wrex. "You said 'Wrex' and then-"

"Shepard," said Shepard, interrupting Wrex. Then he frowned. "Wait, I mean-"

"Wrex," said Wrex automatically. Then he frowned too. "Wait-"

"Shepard," said Shepard.

"Wrex," said Wrex. Then he clamped his hands over his mouth. The rest of the party had gathered to watch on in horror by this point.

"Shepard," said Shepard.

"Wrex," said Wrex.

"Shepard."

"Wrex."

"Shepard."

"Wrex."

"Shepard."

"Wrex."

"Shepard."

"Wrex."

Grunt, who had slipped in long ago, raised his hand. "Is this what it's like to get old?"

"Shut up, Grunt," snapped Wrex.

"Shepard," said Grunt automatically. Then his mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Grunt." Shepard raised his hands in placation. "Wait, wait—Wrex, who's saying Shepard again?"

Wrex's eyes crossed. "S-Shepard. Wrex."

Shepard broke into a sweat. "Wrex. Shepard."

"We can fix this. Just stop saying Shepard, Wrex," said Wrex. "I mean. Wait—, I mean...shut up, Grunt!"

"I didn't say anything, Wrex!" whined Grunt.

"No!" Wrex waved a hand at him. "Not you, Shepard. I meant Grunt, Wrex!"

"Wrex, I think you're getting a little confused, Shepard," said Shepard to Grunt. He turned to Wrex. "Grunt, help me out here."

"Okay," said Wrex, who was Shepard drawing on his years of experience in the battlefield to calm himself. "Grunt, this started when you said your own name. So just say my name, and I'll say you're name, okay? I've used psychological warfare before, I know what I'm doing. This'll work."

Grunt nodded.

"Not you, you idiot," said Shepard, who was Wrex. He took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm going to say your name: 'Shepard.'"

"Wrex," said Shepard. When no automatic reply came from anyone, he clapped his hands. "There, see? I told you it would work."

Grunt blinked. "Wait—who am I, again?"

Wrex sighed."You've got a whole other problem there, Grunt. …Wait, don't—"

"Shepard," said Grunt, before he could stop himself.

"Wrex," said Shepard.

"Shepard—DAMN IT!" Wrex threw up his hands for silence. "Hold on. Don't anybody say _anything_!"

At that moment, Joker came limping down the hallway towards them. He waved to those assembled as he ducked through the mangled entrance way, EDI swaying behind him. "Wow, the whole crew's here. Did you guys breach this door and storm in or something? Just like old times!" He caught sight of the tense triangle of two krogan and one man, surrounded by a half circle of stunned on lookers. "Whoa. Everything all right, Shepard?" He looked around in confusion. "Wrex? Grunt?"

Shepard had been about to raise his hands to silence Joker, but it was too late. "Wrex," he said, his mouth moving on its own.

"Shepard," said Wrex.

"Shepard," said Grunt.

"Grunt," said Shepard.

"Shepard," said Grunt.

"Wrex," said Shepard.

"Shepard, Grunt."

"Grunt, Wrex."

"Shepard Grunt Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt."

"Grunt Shepard Wrex Grunt Shepard Wrex Grunt Shepard Wrex."

"Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt."

"Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex."

"Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard Grunt Wrex Shepard."

Joker looked around at those assembled. "What's with the looks? What did I do?"


	17. Shitadel - The Last Supper

It took a brief but painful administration of shock therapy from EDI to get Shepard, Wrex, and Grunt back to reality. While Wrex only grumbled in pain, Grunt reacted violently to the treatment and began attacking everything in sight. It took combined neural shocks from EDI and Tali to knock him unconscious, and afterwards he was stored in Shepard's reinforced shower compartment with the door locked for the remainder of the curative process. Shepard's own shock therapy took considerably longer than Grunt's or Wrex's put together. In fact, it took so long and was so difficult to carry off that Tali, Garrus and Kasumi all joined in assisting her with neural shocks and tazers and flash grenades. It must have been all the cybernetics in Shepard's body that caused the difficulty. At any rate, his half conscious carcass had been dumped unceremoniously into one of the chairs by the fire by the time the next guests arrived. The whole place was quite a mess. Indeed, one of these new guests was not pleased with what he found.

"The sparsity of this apartment shows just how bankrupt this cycle is. In my cycle, the walls of every room were lined with propaganda, with weapons, with the pictures of the lost. You all seem to want to forget that you are going extinct."

"Yes, Javik," said Liara.

"Is that not the entire reason we are here? To pretend that our deaths are not imminent? You all might as well be wearing blinders and walking into the Reapers' arms if this is how you fight a war. This cycle is obsessed with escapism."

"Hi, Javik," chorused all of Shepard's guests, as if they were a group of school children strong-armed by a well meaning teacher into greeting a retarded class mate.

"It is a good thing that you do not fight the Reapers with such enthusiasm," said Javik dryly. "Otherwise I would never even have woken up to this ignominious cycle."

"That's very interesting, Javik," said Liara. "Now could you please—"

"In my cycle—"

As if from some hidden cue (or more accurately, as if something had just finished rebooting) Shepard rose out of his chair with all the drama of a vengeful Frankenstein's monster climbing off of the operating table. His eyes opened, the faint hint of reaper-tech red gleaming behind them as he observed the newcomers.

"Well. Look who's here. I thought you'd be the _first_ to show up."

Liara opened her mouth.

"Commander Shepard," said Javik urgently. "You will not believe this: there is a sort of strange entertainment plaza nearby, and it is packed nearly to overflowing with hedonists. What function do these people serve in the war? None. They should be retrained and reclassified as soldiers immediately. In my cycle, no one was allowed leisure time at all. This entire day has been a disgrace."

"Javik and I went to a cafe," said Liara loudly. "We had a nice time."

"I overheard more than a dozen casual conversations between professional soldiers, mercenaries, and special operatives," groused Javik. "Why should they be tucked away from their duties, sipping tea and complaining about supply crates, when thousands die throughout the galaxy every second? In my cycle, anyone who deserted their post was summarily executed. We had very few desertions."

Shepard raised his voice. "That's nice. How's the beef, Liara? It must be pretty good, all things considered." He looked meaningfully at their Prothean compatriot.

Liara stepped in front of Javik, also keeping her voice raised. "I don't know what you are talking about, Shepard. We did not actually get anything to eat, just to drink."

Javik leaned around her. "In my cycle, soldiers and officers were fed a constant diet of stimulants and calories instead of having meals. The high levels of stressed prevented weight gain. In fact, some even started to starve. We had to resort to eating the bodies of our dead for sustenance-and to ensure that the Reapers did not convert them."

Shepard was yelling by this point, though Javik seemed undeterred. "It is too bad that you could not get any beef from Javik. You know you can always come to my place if you want the beef."

"No thank you, Shepard," said Liara, daring to speak more normally. Javik seemed to have subsided, glaring suspiciously at the lot of them.

"Really?" asked Shepard, also resuming his normal tones. He eyed Liara's companion speculatively. "So, how many dicks do Protheans have?"

Javik narrowed his eyes dramatically. "Enough to kill you."

Shepard looked surprised. "You must have double infinite balls! How much could you get for a full set, I wonder."

Garrus coughed.

Kasumi materialized by Shepard's shoulder, staring at him. "...Care to explain that one to us gals in the cheap seats, Shep?"

"Hello, Kasumi," said Liara.

"Hi."

"Double infinite balls," said Shepard instructively. "Because, you know. Two balls for each dick, infinitely. Which is how many you'd need to kill me."

"Or quadruple infinite balls, Shepard," said Wrex.

"Shut up, Wrex."

"Shepard."

EDI stood up, walked over, and slapped Wrex in the face.

"Thanks," said Wrex.

"Okay," said Kasumi. "But why infinite dicks? I mean, that's a lot of dicks."

Shepard sighed. "Look, everyone else gets it. Okay? Just let it go."

Garrus raised his hand. "Um, actually, I have no idea what you're talking about either."

"Me neither," said Tali.

"Oh, what a surprise," said Shepard, rounding on them both. "The fucking dextros team up when the non-freaks talk dicks and balls and sex stuff. This is why you don't invite two dextros to your party or to sex, because they always play the dextro card."

"I didn't know dextro was a racial slur," said Tali. "But I guess it is now. Thanks, Shepard, you really did change the galaxy and everything."

"Now hold on a minute," began Garrus.

"Don't engage him, Garrus," said Ashley disgustedly. "By the way, I still remember that time you talked about krogan testicles for, like, four hours. God."

Wrex laughed from his position leaning against a nearby wall. "Didn't know you were interested, Vakarian."

Tali pulled Garrus possessively towards her. "I'm not sure whether I'm okay with this or not. Leaning towards 'not.'"

"It isn't what you think," said Garrus.

Shepard, pouncing on this opportunity for a bit of witty implication, added: "Garrus is a faggot."

Cortez frowned. "Hey. Not cool, man."

James agreed. "Yeah. There's loco, and then there's just _tonto_."

Shepard's lip curled up in a very ugly expression. "I have no idea what the fuck you just said, Vega. I bet Ashley didn't either, even though it made her wet."

Ashely looked sidelong at Vega. "I contest one of those two things."

Shepard rolled his eyes. "So charming. I wish Kaidan was here."

Ashely blanched. Liara patted her shoulder gingerly, while Grunt and Tali gave her sympathetic looks. Wrex grunted noncommittally.

"God, Shepard," said Jack, her feet on the coffee table. "You are such an asshole."

Joker, who was sitting on EDI's lap, raised an eyebrow. "You weren't even on Virmire, Jack. How did you know what he meant?"

Jack shrugged. "What's Virmire? Shepard's just an asshole."

"In my cycle-" began Javik.

"I really hope this has nothing to do with assholes," said Joker, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Do not interrupt me." Javik cleared his throat. "In my cycle, indoctrinated Reaper sympathizers would sometimes hide reaper tech in their—"

Shepard sneered at him. "Sounds like someone's _cycle _is still going on."

Javik stood up, pride radiating from him. "_I will not be interrupted by primitives._"

"Javik," cooed Liara. "Sit down, Javik. It's okay."

Javik's chest deflated. "But in my cycle…"

"Hush." Liara put a finger over his lips. "Shush."

The Prothean sat down slowly. "Fine. Very well."

Shepard watched them, his eyes narrowed. A very cold silence followed as he and the Prothean exchanged the glares of two alpha assholes squaring off. EDI broke the silence, turning to the asari who was sitting down across from her.

"Justicar Samara, my sensors indicate that your heart rate has dropped significantly, despite all the excitement going on around you."

"Seems pretty dull to me," commented Shepard as he stood up abruptly and left for the kitchen. Javik watched him go.

"I appreciate your concern, EDI," said Samara, her eyes opening fractionally. "However, there is no cause for alarm. I am merely contemplating eternity."

"That's _loco_," said James, watching Ashley out of the corner of his eye. A bottle of horchata flew from the kitchen and bounced off the side of his head with a loud thunk. James caught the bottle reflexively, popped it open between two pectoral muscles, and then downed the entire thing. He gave a thumbs up to the kitchen. "_Gracias_, Commander."

An ominous silence radiated from the stylishly modern kitchenette.

"Are you okay, James?" asked Cortez, who was staring at the spot where the bottle had bounced off of Vega's head.

"_Muy bien, gracias_," said James. He kept looking at Ashley for signs of arousal, but she was distracted by talking to Garrus and Tali; the icy mood in the room had been broken the moment Shepard left.

"So you two are a couple now," observed Ashley. "Huh. I never would have expected that, honestly."

"What do you mean?" asked Tali.

"Well, I mean..." Ashley looked uncomfortable. "Don't you people usually...I don't know...stick with...with their..."

Tali put her hands on her hips. "So, just because I'm a quarian I should only date quarians. Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm sure that's not what she meant," said Garrus genially.

"Yeah, forget it," said Ashley, shaking her head.

"It's okay, Ashley," said Tali, waving a hand. "You'd be surprised how common it is. Have you ever heard of _Fleet and Flotilla_?"

"No," said Ashley warily.

If turians could blush, Garrus Vakarian might have blushed. "I'm going to go talk to Wrex," he said.

Tali giggled. "Fine. Don't let him come on to you or anything."

"Right." Garrus rolled his eyes and walked towards the bar, where the two krogan had migrated to.

In the kitchen, Shepard aimed a second bottle of horchata at James's head. Thinking better of it, he popped the cap open and tasted the drink for himself.

"_Blech!_ I didn't know that donkey seed was considered a delicacy in Mexico!"

"It's a great drink, man," James hollered back. He glanced at Ashley. "Horchata, I mean. Not semen."

"Yeah, no." Shepard poured the milky white beverage out into the sink and then threw the rest of the bottles in the garbage. "That reminds me, though: now that everyone's here—"

"What about Miranda?" asked Tali.

"—now that everyone's here, it's time for the real fun to start." Shepard went to his fridge and pulled out several large canisters of blue liquid and a metal tray. Humming to himself, he held the canisters under his arm in a row and carried the tray in the other hand as he danced over to the group in the living room, slapping a button on the wall as he did so. Light party music filtered in through hidden speakers in the corners of the room. The noise drew Wrex, Garrus, and Grunt back to the living room.

Jack, who had been making EDI and Joker uncomfortable with her references to sex dolls, watched Shepard set the goods down on the coffee table. "Damn. You actually came through Shepard." She frowned. "With…three bottles of blue shit and a…what is that?"

"Yeah, what is that?" asked James Vega, peering down into the tray. "Did you burn a bunch of polenta?"

"Looks like some sort of wooden square," observed Ashley.

"Ah!" Cortez snapped his fingers, nodding knowingly at Shepard. "It's casserole. Right?"

"Looks like dirt," observed Grunt. "Or some sort of mud. A lot of it, too.

Shepard stared at them all with a very hurt expression on his face. "Guys. It's a cake, guys. I baked a cake."

The color drained from Samantha Traynor's face. "Oh. Well. It, um…it smells nice."

"I can't smell anything," said Joker tactlessly. "What about you, EDI?"

"No, Jeff."

Samara, who was sitting closest to the tray, opened her eyes and looked down. "Are those raisins, Shepard?"

Shepard jumped. "Razors? What? No."

The justicar blinked slowly. "Raisins."

Shepard avoided her eyes. "What? No."

Still looking at him, Samara reached in carefully and extracted a thin square like object from the tray. She had to dig her fingers into the hard, burnt crust of the cake in order to get the object out. Then she held up it up to the light.

"That's not a razor," said Jack.

Shepard glanced at her. "You would know."

"Is it some sort of chocolate flake, Shepard?" asked Liara.

Samara dropped the mysterious shape into EDI's out stretched hand. The AI brought it up to her eye and examined it for a moment before pronouncing: "Baked candy square. Fifty percent chocolate, ten percent milk."

Javik's eyes brightened. "In my cycle, chocolate was considered a—"

EDI interrupted him. "I am detecting a large quantity of senna glycosides, a—"

Tali, who had become inordinately excited by talking about _Fleet and Flotilla _with Ashley, burst forwards suddenly. "YOU WERE GOING TO POISON US!"

"—a well known Earth born laxative," finished EDI.

"POOP POISON!" screamed Tali hysterically. Garrus finally yanked her back into her seat, leaning over to whisper something into her ear.

Shepard glared at Tali. "Just a harmless joke, guys. This flat has, like, three bathrooms in it. Four of if you count Tali. Five if you count Jack's big potty mouth. It's no big deal."

EDI's artificial eyes narrowed. "I am also detecting a seeding of Thetian Anal Worm egg colonies."

"Ha-ha," said Shepard. "The bathrooms also have itching cream in them. Seriously, it's no big deal. Anus worms only last, like, a week. Trust me, I know."

Grunt made a strange noise and clutched at his stomach, though nobody noticed. Shepard cleared his throat. "Never mind, then. Let's try and sample these fine beverages before we dig in to that tasty treat." Ignoring the dirty looks he was getting, he began fumbling the canisters of blue liquid onto the table. One of the canisters rolled onto its side and popped its cap off, spilling bright glowing blue fluids all over the table and floor. As the assembled guests looked on in horror, the wet spots began to smoke.

Shepard laughed. "Yep. That's 300 proof Centurian likker right there."

"_Dios mios," _whispered James in obvious awe.

"Why is it melting the floor?" asked Ashley.

"I…don't think that's _real_ liquor," said Samantha Traynor tentatively.

EDI knelt by the spill. "Agreed. This appears to be some kind of star ship hull cleaner."

"Is it?" asked Shepard. "Huh. I must have gotten the bottles mixed up." Everyone was staring daggers at him, but his omni tool came to the rescue with a loud beep.

"Whoops! Gotta take this!" Shepard shot to his feet and buried his face in his wrist, shuffling sidelong out of the cramped circle of party goers. Her accidentally kneed a sitting Javik between the legs as he went, although the Prothean didn't seem to notice the blow, even when Liara pointed it out to him.

Shepard's omni tool read as follows:

_Shepard. Meet me out in the hall._

_-Zaeed_


	18. Shitadel - A Dish Best Served Cold

**A Dish Best Served Cold**

"Who is it?" asked Jack, craning her neck over the head rest of her chair to watch Shepard leave.

"It's your mom," replied Shepard. "She says thanks to Cerberus for taking you off her hands." He looked back down at his omni tool, shrugged, and then left towards the door. "I'll be back. Don't start doing body shots just yet."

The party-goers were left crowded around the fireplace and the couches, staring in disbelief at the horrific, inedible mess that Shepard had made of the end table.

"So," began Garrus carefully, "did he just try to poison us, or…or what?"

Liara looked concerned. "You don't think he actually thought these things were edible, do you? Maybe he's having another psychotic break."

Joker looked over at her. "_Another_?"

"Shadow Broker," said Liara, as if that explained everything. Which it did.

Jack snorted. "Great. So it's only nine o clock and he's already tried to kill us twice. What's next, did he rig this whole apartment to blow?"

Garrus looked around at the apartment with fresh horror.

Grunt looked worried. "I think he wants me to eat someone. I'm not sure. It was in his message."

Wrex punched him encouragingly in the shoulder. "I didn't know you could read!"

"Err…is this sort of thing normal?" asked Samantha Traynor. "I mean, trying to give us parasites and make us drink bleach? Does he do it all the time?"

Ashley looked at her in confusion. "I thought you were stationed on the Normandy."

"Well, yes," said Samantha. "But I spend a lot of time working. Everyone's so busy these days with the war, you know, especially the commander. And I like to wear ear plugs—only sometimes, of course. It helps me concentrate."

Tali was staring at her.

Samantha fidgeted uncomfortably under the quarian's indiscernible gaze. "Er…Tali? Do I have something on my face?"

"Earplugs."

"Only sometimes, yes," said Samantha.

"Why didn't I think of that before?"

Joker raised his hand. "Are we still going to kill Shepard?"

Everyone looked at him.

"What? You were all thinking it."

Samara stood up from the floor. "I cannot allow you to murder Shepard: the conflicts that plague the galaxy now demand men and women with his skills and expertise. Without him, we may very well be doomed. The Justicar's Code demands that he live for the sake of the innocent."

A solemn silence filled the room.

"Although, I would like to help you," added Samara.

"You could just shoot yourself or something," said Jack. "That would solve the problem with the Code."

"Among other problems, yes," said Samara quietly.

"Whoa, senorita!" James Vega approached her, his gigantic meaty hands open in placation. "That's crazy talk! You're still _mondo caliente_, girl."

"You're such a gentlemen, James," said Cortez.

Liara drew herself up. "Vega is right."

"Thank you, Ms. T'soni," said Samara. "I am very flattered."

"That's not quite what I meant, but you're welcome. But look: we've all got problems here. Killing the cCommander or ourselves isn't going to solve anything." She turned to Javik. "Isn't that right, Javik?"

Javik looked at her, then at those assembled. "I desire very much to die."

Liara turned hurriedly to Jack. "Jack, you've had problems in your life."

"Understatement of the fucking century," said Jack.

"But you never gave up, did you? You didn't resort to easy violence and murder just to solve your…" Liara covered his forehead with her hand. "Hold on. I need to rethink this."

Ashley crossed her arms. "What's the deal anyways, T'soni? Why are you defending Shepard all of the sudden?"

"She always had a soft spot for him," said Tali.

"I do not!"

"I hate to gang up on you, Liara," said Garrus. "But they're right. You're way too easy on him."

Wrex grunted in agreement. "It's the Prothean thing."

"It is not!" said Liara indignantly.

Javik perked up. "Prothean thing? I would rather not be involved in your primitive love triangles."

"Not you," said Ashley. "He means the beacon. Shepard absorbed Prothean messages from the beacons, and Liara was all over him about it."

Javik deflated. "That is good. That is a relief to hear."

"Liara has a point." Wrex sighed. "I remember back when things were simpler. The good old days. Just the six of us, and Shepard convinced me to stop the genophage from being cured."

He fell quiet.

Liara winced. "Look, I know Shepard has done all of us wrong at one point or another."

"He got my father posthumously exiled from the quarian fleet," said Tali.

Liara held up her hands for silence. "Let's not all go listing our grievances against Shepard, please."

"Because it would take all night," agreed Garrus.

"That's not what I—"

Cortez and Samantha exchanged looks with James, who stepped forwards into the center of the group. He had to sidestep an increasingly discolored patch of floor where the chemicals had spilled.

"I can't _como_ what you _perras _are _llaman que_," he began.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "That's enough Spanish, James."

James silenced her by way of a raised hand. "Hold on, babe. I've got to say this: if it wasn't for the Commander, none of us would be where we are today."

Liara went to stand by him. "That's right, Mr. Vega. And—"

"Please." James held up a finger. "I've been asking non-stop questions about what's going on, and they've finally paid off for me. I can handle this, Blue."

Liara raised her eyebrows. "Blue?"

"It's a nickname," said Cortez by way of explanation.

"It's offensive," said Liara. "How would you like it if he called you 'Black?'"

"Ladies, please," begged Vega, "hear me out: you all need to take a step back and look at yourselves, si, take a cuando a como mucho te accomplished por que del Jefe; Big Red, te estan el jefe de la krogana; Sparks, te estan un almirante de la flota quarian; y cicatrices, que fija hasta Omega; y azul, que él ayudó a convertirse en el Corredor Sombrío; y peces de colores, que se está ejecutando su propio famoso escuadrón de ahora; y Samara, salvó a sus hijas, a la derecha ?; y EDI, sin Shepard que sería no tener un cuerpo, y Joker no tendría un buque; y Jack, Shepard ayudó a descubrir su pasado."

Finishing, he looked profoundly at all of them. "Yo sé que él es un idiota, pero ¿dónde estaría cualquiera de nosotros sin él? Le debemos todo, chicos."

Liara looked bemusedly at the others. "Did anybody catch that?"

"Weird." Jack tapped her ear. "Shouldn't our translators have picked that up?"

"I understood it," said Tali solemnly, rising from her chair.

Garrus looked at her. "Really?"

"No." She began to giggle.

"James," began Cortez gently. "Could you repeat that in English? I don't think anyone else knows Spanish."

Vega threw himself into his chair. "No way, hermano. I've said my piece—you guys can pretend not to understand if you want, but my work here is done."

Kasumi materialized beside Vega. "If you guys are speaking foreign language poetry, I've got some Japanese haikus."

"Let me guess," said Liara. "They're all about Jacob Taylor's muscles?"

Kasumi coughed discreetly. "Actually, um, bye." And then she disappeared.

While all this was going on, Shepard stepped through his doorway and stood in the hall way, waiting beside two turbo lifts. No one bothered to follow him out, and Zaeed wasn't there either.

"Zaeed?" he asked.

Behind him, the turbo lift going up opened and Zaeed jumped out with an enormous combat knife in his hand. He clamped the other hand over Shepard's mouth and pressed the blade of the knife up against his throat, pulling the Commander back onto his heels.

"Don't. Say. A word." The mercenary's single green eye gleamed with blood lust. There was a sniper rifle slung over his back.

Shepard was dragged into the turbo lift, which shut behind them. Zaeed released Shepard, only to throw him against the wall of the lift. Shepard's head banged against the Plexiglas. Before he could recover, Zaeed lunged forwards and slammed him back into the wall, putting them nose to nose.

"Zaeed!" Shepard gasped through a haze of confusion and pain. "I had no idea you liked it so rough!"

The mercenary growled like a dog. "What the hell are you playing at? I go and set up at a vantage point for five hours, evade half of C-Sec, and fill nineteen jars with piss just to find out that you hired me to cover your fucking apartment for a party? What the hell do you expect to show up, the entire fucking Reaper armada?"

"Are you mad, Zaeed?"

"YES I'M BLOODY—" Zaeed clamped his mouth shut. "Yeah, that's right Shepard. I'm mad. And I expect my full bloody payment, right now."

Shepard picked at his nails, as if he had all the time in the world. "But you haven't done the job."

"I get it," said Zaeed. "There isn't no bloody job. Very fucking funny, Shepard."

"Actually, you don't get it," said Shepard. "See, Zaeed, I have reason to believe that some of my so called 'friends' are planning to kill me. Again, I mean. I hired you to make sure that doesn't happen again."

Zaeed scoffed. "You expect me to take on a room with the Shadow Broker, Archangel, a krogan battlemaster, a spectre, an asari justicar, a reaper tech robot assassin, and goddamn Subject Zero? I'm tough, Shepard. I'm not stupid."

"You wouldn't have to take them on face to face if you hadn't left your sniping spot to yell at me," said Shepard. He thumbed the turbo lift open and stepped back out into the hall. "I'm paying good money for my protection. Get back to your post or no more elevator sex for you."

He turned to go, only to have his way blocked by a cheerful looking asari in a white uniform with _Tamora's Take Out and Catering _emblazoned in purple on its chest.

"Hi," she said. "Would you happen to know where Commander Shepard's residence is?"

Shepard narrowed his eyes. "Who're you."

"I'm with _Tamora's Take Out and Catering_. We serve all kinds of events with that special blend of staple galactic diets and mysterious company recipes that the Citadel just can't get enough of!"

"Well." Shepard grinned strangely. "You've come to the right place."

"Are you Commander Shepard?" asked the asari brightly. "I can't deliver the order until I get a confirmation."

He stopped grinning. "Of course I'm Commander Shepard. Isn't my face all over the fucking news?"

"Actually, no." Zaeed emerged from the turbo lift, looking smug. "They use some composit bullshit to 'appeal to a wider audience' or some other goddamn nonsense. Personally, I figure they should just put the real thing out there—the Reapers would probably laugh themselves all the way back to goddamn dark space."

The asari eyed his armor and equipment with an apprehensive expression before turning back to Shepard. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't do anything unless you can confirm yourself to be Commander Shepard."

"This is ridiculous." Shepard turned and headed towards the smashed open door. "Here, I can scan my hand on the lock and..." It was obviously beyond repair; the scanner and controls were so smashed that it was doubtful he could use them to confirm his identity.

"Oh dear," said the asari. "Looks like someone's broken in!"

Shepard sighed. "Krogan. They should all be put in camps."

"What's going on out there?" called Jack from the living room. "Is that the Cerberus cheerleader?"

"Cerberus!" The asari covered her mouth. She turned to Shepard. "They attacked the Citadel!"

"Yes," said Shepard. "I know."

Zaeed turned to the asari. "Don't worry, darling. We're all a bunch of big goddamn heroes here."

The asari did not look convinced. "Look, uh, unless someone can prove they're the real Commander Shepard, I really do have other residences to deliver to tonight."

"But I am Commander Shepard," insisted Shepard as more people began to gather on the other side of the door, drawn from the party by the noise. "Look, I have a dozen people here as witnesses to the fact. Right guys?"

Tali, who with Garrus had squeezed herself to the front of the crowd, steepled her fingers. "Don't bet so sure. Is it really Commander Shepard, or a dangerous reaper hybrid sleeper agent?"

Garrus nodded. "Planted for years to complete his mission at this very moment."

Jack pushed between them. "And he's full of Cerberus technology. He could be a walking bomb!"

"A w-walking bomb? Do you really think so?" By this point, the asari's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. A lump in her throat was bobbing nervously up and down, and she was visibly fidgeting.

"Come on, guys," said Shepard. "You're scaring the smurf."

Joker appeared, supported by EDI. He pretended to be shocked when he saw Shepard. "What—Commander? I thought you were on a suicide mission out somewhere in space!"

"The one in the Terminal System?" asked Grunt, completely at a lost with what was going on around him.

"Yeah, the Terminus system," said Joker. "Commander Shepard's supposed to be there, right everyone?"

A few people nodded in assent. The asari caterer had turned a very light shade of blue.

Shepard grabbed her shoulder. "Obviously you recognize some of my famous crew," he said airily, waving a hand at the assembled party. "There's Tailhole Vasectomy Needme, famous semen repository of the quarian fleet and professional dead father haver, and her pathetic failure of a stunt penis Gayass Vagininian."

Tali and Garrus looked at each other.

"I've never heard of either of those people," said the asari nervously, trying to twitch out of his grasp.

Shepard nodded in sympathy. "Yes, I know. It's tough having only a team of loser nobodies to back you up. And speaking of loser nobodies," he pointed at Joker, "there's my pilot, Jizzy Moron, and his chromed up trash can of a sexbot, Everyone's Dick Inside."

Temporarily distracted, the asari gaped at EDI, who was staring intently at Shepard. "W-wow! I've never seen anything like that before! What does it do?"

"Amazing things," said Shepard. "She hammers, she nails, she makes sandwiches in her butt."

EDI raised her hand. "Actually, Shepard, I was able to retrieve my posterior from Dr. Michelle a few days ago. On her break, in a hallway, near an apartment like this one."

Shepard gasped. "It's happening! The robot uprising is happening! We should never have given her a body!"

"What's going on here?" Liara and Javik had arrived, pushing through the crowd by the door. James, Cortez, and Samantha were bringing up the rear. Liara looked Shepard and the asari over.

"Are you assaulting that woman?"

Javik raised his hand. "In my cycle, women who refused to donate their ovaries to—"

Liara's hand slapped over his mouth and she looked expectantly at Shepard. "Well?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'assaulting,'" said Shepard. The asari caterer tried to escape his grip again, but he grabbed her bicep and pulled her back. She noticed Liara.

"Liara T'soni!" she gushed. "You're famous! Almost as famous as Commander Shepard—whatever he or she looks like!"

Liara smiled uncertainly. "Are you all right, miss? Shepard, did you drug her?"

Shepard snapped his fingers in front of the caterer's face. "There! You hear that? Lardy Tit Booby called me 'Shepard.' That's my name. My full, entire name. I'm Commander Shepard and this is my house on the Citadel."

The caterer opened her mouth, but Kasumi Goto materialized in front of them before she could speak. "

"Hi," said Kasumi. "I'm Commander Shepard."

The asari screamed in surprise, kicked Shepard in the balls, broke free of his grip, and then turned and pelted for one of the lift tubes.

"Not quite the reaction I was hoping for, but I'll take it," said Kasumi as the commander collapsed to the ground.

"She's on the move!" exclaimed Shepard from his supine position. "Zaeed, put her on the ground! Concussive shot! Concussive shot!"

Wrex grabbed Grunt and pushed him back before the tank bred krogan's reflexes could kick in.

"I'm not gonna do that," said Zaeed.

"She probably brought booze!"

Zaeed fingered his pistol. "What kind of booze?"

"All the kinds of booze!" said Shepard. "Ricecall! Ryequell! Rinsewind!"

"Zaeed," said EDI calmly, "those are not real drinks."

The mercenary snorted. "Guddamn toasters think I don't know my liquor. I know they ain't real drinks, sweetheart."

"She's getting away!" Shepard slammed his fist into the floor. "Blood pudding, Zaeed! Spotted dick! Haggis! I ordered all these things for you, and you're just going to let them get away?"

"What the guddamn hell are you bleeding on about?"

"I think he's lost it," said Garrus aside to Tali.

"You mean he's not British?" asked Shepard to the universe at large. "Never mind, I—"

The door to one of the tubes opened just as the asari reached it, and Miranda Lawson stepped out. The asari fell backwards onto her butt, but Miranda helped her get up.

"Are you all right, miss?"

"They're crazy!" babbled the asari caterer. "Crazy!"

Miranda read her shirt. "You're here to deliver food?"

The asari began to splutter. "C-C-Commander Shepard?"

"Yes," said Miranda Lawson. "Commander Shepard."

The asari activated an omni-tool and flashed a green confirmation code on her company line. Then she ran into the lift tube and shut the door behind her. Miranda raised an eyebrow at Shepard and the rest of the party she approached them.

"So. What happened?"

"Nothing happened," said Tali innocently. "We were just trying to—"

Shepard shot to his feet between her and Miranda, pushing Tali's head back with a hand to her face. She pin wheeled backwards into Garrus's arms while Shepard eyed the fancy dress that Miranda was wearing.

"Nice. I didn't know being the Illusive Man's personal prostitute was so lucrative."

"Almost as lucrative as being his puppet," responded Miranda genially.

"Jacob sure had it easy," agreed Shepard. "Too bad he died."

Garrus and Tali flinched. Everyone else looked uncomfortable. Joker covered his face with his hand. "Jesus, Shepard."

Miranda crossed her arms. "Very tasteful. I assume you're going to follow that with a nice dead baby joke or rape reference?"

"For Jacob? A tar baby reference, maybe."

"Just stop," said Cortez. "Guys. Please, just stop."

"Fuckin' SJW," muttered Shepard, not meeting his eyes.

The mood had become decidedly un-festive. Zaeed cleared his scarred throat to break the silence; although he was not a very sociable man, this particular awkward silence seemed less like a simple a conversational lull and more like the quiet that comes before a deadly jungle ambush.

"So, has the bastard tried to poison any of you yet?"

Wrex nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Laxatives and anal parasites. The usual."

"And razors," added Samara.

"Well I never," began Shepard.

Tali raised her hand. "That reminds me, I was thinking we should all—"

Miranda interrupted her. "Maybe we should come inside first. It's a little cold out here and I think the catering is on its way."

Shepard looked between them. "Ooh, are you guys planning some sort of surprise for me?"

"Something like that," said Garrus quietly.

"Oh, right," said Ashley. "I almost forgot."

Wrex grinned knowingly. Liara and Garrus exchanged glances.

"Oh boy! How many of you silly billies were in on this?" Shepard flicked his wrist at the crowd assembled around the door. "Come on, don't be shy. What did you get me? A stripper?"

Samantha Traynor looked confused, as usual. "I didn't hear about any surprise—ohhh, right."

Joker looked uncomfortable. "I don't know about you guys, but I feel pretty bad already."

"That's because you're a coward, Jeff," said Shepard obliviously. "I hope they didn't have you pick the stripper." His eyes crossed. "Wait a minute—_you're_ not the stripper, are you? Or are you just going to blow me? Some birthday present. Jeez." He made a face.

"Commander Shepard."

"What, EDI?"

"If you touch Mr. Moreau, I will kill you."

"Whatever, EDI."

"Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait—" James Vega held up his hands for silence, a look of consternation on his face as he demanded an explanation for things nobody cared about. "Loco—did I just hear what I thought I just heard?"

Shepard eyed him. "Maybe."

James did not seem to process this warning sign. "Did you say it was your _birthday? _Dios mio, brother! You shoulda told me. I would've thrown you the best damn party with strippers, cake, video games, horchata—"

"Sounds great."

"—everything you could possibly need, man!" James clapped Shepard on the shoulder. "Next year, okay? It'll be my treat."

"Quit touching me."

"It's cool." James backed off. "No homo."

Ashley looked faintly disgusted. "Vega, say something in Spanish. Quickly."

James grinned winningly. "Si, Ashley. Mis juevos estan muy gordo por que de vuestras grande colo."

Ashely sighed in relief. "The language of romance. Right, Tali? Samantha?" She looked around for encouragement. "Miranda?"

"Right." Miranda rolled her eyes. "I had no idea this was your birthday party, Shepard. Otherwise I might not have come."

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck. "It's more the day I died on, but whatever."

"And not the day I finished resurrecting you?"

"Pff. Like I needed your help with that."

"Of course not."

Liara sighed. "Don't take it personally, Ms. Lawson. Shepard is notoriously ungrateful when it comes to getting help from other people."

Shepard raised his finger. "I assembled a crack team of—"

"Fuck you," interjected Jack.

"—a crack team of specialists to take down the Collectors. Also, I tracked down and assembled all the Protean—"

"Prothean, Shepard."

"Protein relics and visions myself—"

"I helped you, Shepard."

"—and I stopped Saren and blew up Sovereign—"

"Joker blew up Sovereign, Shepard."

"Don't drag me into this!" exclaimed Joker as he edged away from the argument.

"—and I killed a Reaper single handedly—"

"That was the Quarian fleet, Shepard," said Liara in a monotone.

The crowd had begun to disperse back into the suite, leaving only Liara and Shepard to argue. Javik hovered behind Liara with a bored expression on his face.

"And I killed the Shadow Broker," finished Shepard smugly.

"Technically," conceded Liara. "Although I did most of the prep work."

"Yeah, but Tela Vasir would have kicked your ass if it wasn't for me."

"She almost killed you, Shepard. I saved you."

"That's not how I remember it."

_Tela Vasir grabbed her hostage by the shoulder and pressed a pistol into the side of the woman's head. "Come on, Shepard. You don't want anyone to get hurt here, do you?"_

_ "Don't worry," said Shepard to Liara as he un-holstered his grenade launcher and shot Tela Vasir in the face, blowing both her and the hostage into pieces. "I've got this." Then he grabbed Liara by the breasts as chunks of gore splattered all around and drew her into a deep and sexually violent kiss as Javik cried and jerked off in the corner._

"Only a few of those things happened," said Liara.

"Which ones?" asked Javik mildly.

"Well," began Liara carefully, "there was a grenade launcher. And a lot of people died."

Shepard started in surprise. "Javik, did you just begin a sentence without saying 'in my cycle?'"

"I do not 'jerk off in the corner,'" said Javik.

"I know," said Liara.

"Nor do I 'cry.'"

"That's…okay, Javik," said Liara. "Let's go get a drink of water."

"In my cycle—"

Shepard held up his hands for quiet. "Javik, my Brothean brother, please. You've gotta stop it with that. It's really harshing my groove."

Javik walked up until he was standing nose to flat-face with Shepard. "You are _not_ my brother."

"It's a figure of speech," said Shepard, grinning.

"I know what it is. Do not say it again."

"Okay, fine. I won't."

"Good."

"Okay then."

"Excellent."

"Right."

"That is all I had to say."

"Well, fine."

"Just remember what I said."

"Sure, cool, whatever you say."

"Very well then."

"Okay."

Javik and Liara turned to go, leaving Shepard alone.

He sighed loudly. "Whew! Now I can finally let loose that fart I've been holding for the past four hours!"


End file.
